


Flowers In Your Hair

by cornstarchandwater96



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Did I Mention Angst?, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Jinyoung has Hanahaki, M/M, Mention of blood, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, hella lot of pining, i forgot the unrequited love tag, my heart hurt while writing this, the dumbassery is real, this was supposed to be a oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:07:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24623713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornstarchandwater96/pseuds/cornstarchandwater96
Summary: Jinyoung’s very first petal was a pink camellia.Apparently, it meantlonging for you– well, at least according to the words flashed on his laptop screen.He was in too deep, then. Park Jinyoung, famous for the thick walls he built around his heart; known to all Gyeonggi Suwon International School students as cold, calculating, stoic, and antisocial, succumbed to such a pathetic predicament.Honestly, it wasn’t as if Jackson Wang gave him much of a choice, really. Jinyoung couldn’t help but fall, and fall hard.The Jinson Hanahaki AU no one asked for!
Relationships: Park Jinyoung/Jackson Wang
Comments: 32
Kudos: 109





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> oof
> 
> so this is the Hanahaki AU I've been tweeting about, and that has been swimming in my brain for the past 2 months LMAO
> 
> I swear, this was supposed to be a oneshot, but it spiraled out of control and it ended up being 48-pages long... so now I made it a two-shot instead so it could be easier for you to read through it! :)
> 
> Enjoy reading!!! Lemme know what you think at my [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/jackgaejingae)! Also, I forgot to mention before that I have a twitter too ([@jackgaejingae](https://twitter.com/jackgaejingae))! My masterlist is posted there, so you can check it for my other works. Feel free to dm me anytime, too! :)
> 
> Once again, thank you so much to [omgahgase](https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgahgase/pseuds/omgahgase) for putting up with me and crying with me as she beta-ed this work <3

**_What happens when it’s over?_ **

**_When we’ve breathed our last breath?_ **

**_When we’ve loved each other to death_ **

**_Can you tell me what happens?_ **

Jinyoung’s very first petal was a pink camellia.

Apparently, it meant _longing for you_ – well, at least according to the words flashed on his laptop screen. He was in too deep, then. 

Park Jinyoung, famous for the thick walls he built around his heart; known to all Gyeonggi Suwon International School students as cold, calculating, stoic, and antisocial, succumbed to such a pathetic predicament.

Honestly, it wasn’t as if Jackson Wang gave him much of a choice, really. Jinyoung couldn’t help but fall, and fall hard.

❀❀❀

“Hey Jinyoung, do you wanna go to the _noraebang_ with us?”

Jinyoung was already shaking his head in the middle of Jackson’s heavily-accented Korean drawl. One would think that after two years of asking the same question everyday, his classmate – and biggest nuisance – would realize that Jinyoung would never say yes to an after-school hang out, or at least improve on his Korean speaking skills.

It didn’t help that after every time Jackson asked that question, some other classmate would follow through with a _“Why are you still trying, Jacks? Our class president’s too uptight to go to these things!”_ or a poorly concealed whisper of _“His boring personality really doesn’t do his looks any justice…”_

Jinyoung was about to let out a heavy sigh when their classroom doors suddenly slammed open, and in walked a tall guy with his long hair tied up in a bun, his bag slung carelessly over his shoulder.

“Jaebeommie,” Jackson called with a grin before flinging his arm over Lim Jaebeom’s shoulder. “Hang out with us! And help me convince Jinyoung to join too.” He continued as if he hadn’t done the same thing as well over the past years. Like clockwork, Jaebeom rolled his eyes and chuckled.

“Sorry, Jacks. If Nyoung doesn’t say yes, I can’t help you,” Jaebeom said with a shrug, and Jinyoung sent his best friend a small smile as thanks. He nodded to the rest of his classmates as a goodbye, and the two of them left the classroom to make their way home. They were halfway to the bus stop when Jaebeom spoke up.

“He’s never gonna give up trying, you know,” Jaebeom commented with a snicker. “He thinks it’s a challenge. To befriend you, I mean. You’re like the school’s Ice Prince or something. You’re the hardest person to talk to, but he wants to be your friend anyway.”

“He’s annoying,” Jinyoung replied flatly, as if that was enough to explain everything. Jaebeom snorted.

“I think he’s cool. It wouldn’t hurt to try and get to know him, Jinyoung,” Jaebeom retorted, and Jinyoung just shrugged.

The thing was, Jackson Wang really wasn’t the type of guy Jinyoung would bat an eyelash for. One glance at the boisterous, bumbling buffoon two years ago, and he immediately deemed the fencing scholar as someone to avoid interacting with at all costs. Jackson, or Jacks as most of the people in their school would call him, had moved to Seoul from Hong Kong in their first year of middle school and proceeded to make it his life’s mission to be Mr. Congeniality. It took the Chinese guy a _week_ to be friends with any and all the living beings he had the chance to meet – all except for him, it seemed. It irked Jinyoung to no end, partially because it took him that long to befriend just _one_ of his classmates, and partially because it meant that Jackson would try to befriend him too.

Jinyoung wasn’t known to be someone particularly _sociable_ , really. He never had the propensity (nor the patience) for small talk, and his circle of friends only extended to people from the Student Council or the Dance Club. So when Jackson decided that he would try to befriend him, he expected the social butterfly to get bored and stop trying eventually. But here they were, two years later, and nothing had changed. Jackson was still trying to invite him to all his cool parties and fencing matches, and Jinyoung still considered Jackson to be a distraction to his studies.

❀❀❀

If Jinyoung were to be completely honest, he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint the exact moment he fell hopelessly in love with the once-insufferable Chinese boy. He reckoned it was somewhere between the first time he hid a smile behind his hand because Jackson stood in the middle of the baseball field holding up a sign that read “PARK JINYOUNG, PLEASE BE MY FRIEND”, and the time Jackson made an even bigger fool out of himself by making everyone in their class give him an origami crane when he got back to school after being sick for three days.

Most of the characters in the dramas his mother would watch on weekends would say that love hit them like a train; that they had some sort of grand epiphany that confirmed their feelings. Jinyoung couldn’t believe those dramas because his feelings seemed to creep up on him slowly, and consumed him before he could even notice. Sometime between every _“Hey Jinyoung”_ , Jinyoung began to have a soft spot for the older guy. Or maybe his feelings were there from the beginning and he just didn’t know what to do with them.

He never gave the fencer the satisfaction of an admittance that he found all his crazy antics amusing, though. Nor did he give any indication that they were starting to become friends for that matter. At least, not until _that_ day. 

The day Jinyoung started to feel an uncomfortable itch claw its way up his throat.

He remembered that day clearly, because it didn’t start with Jackson’s invite to the _noraebang_.

“It’s weird,” Jinyoung commented with furrowed brows as he pried the lid off of his lunch tin. He and Jaebeom were sitting in their usual lunch spot – beneath a large evodia tree in the campus courtyard, its flowers starting to bloom and give it a splash of cream and red against the dark green leaves. “He hasn’t asked me yet today.”

Jaebeom raised his eyebrow inquisitively, a huge chunk of his sandwich preventing him from voicing out his confusion. Jinyoung couldn’t even be bothered to roll his eyes at his best friend. The potential loss of a nuisance was more important.

“Jackson. He didn’t ask me to hang out with him today…” Jinyoung clarified, his unfocused but contemplative gaze trained loosely on the freshly-cut grass beneath them.

“That _is_ kinda weird,” Jaebeom hummed in agreement after he swallowed his food. “Maybe he’s too preoccupied by his new girlfriend to actually pay attention to his non-friend.” The elder shrugged nonchalantly.

And that’s when Jinyoung felt it – the searing heat making its way from deep in his lungs up to his throat. He couldn’t breathe for what felt like hours, when in truth it had only been a few seconds. He let out a sharp, dry cough to relieve the burning sensation at the back of his throat. Jaebeom patted his back soothingly and sent another questioning look his way, confused by his reaction.

Jinyoung just inhaled a necessary gulp of air and dismissed it, convincing Jaebeom (and himself) that parts of his lunch just went down the wrong pipe.

❀❀❀

Jinyoung thought everything would eventually go back to normal, but he hadn’t seen Jackson at all since he stopped bugging him. All the while, Jinyoung couldn’t stop clearing his throat. It was as if something was constantly clinging to the walls of his windpipe, but no amount of coughing helped relieve the irritation it brought. He was coughing so much that even Jaebeom gave him worried glances when his childhood friend didn’t think he was looking.

_I caught one hell of a cold_.

The worst thing about it all was that Jinyoung didn’t even know why he was so bothered by it. He couldn’t explain why he felt so irritated in the past week. Why did he have to care so much about someone he didn’t consider to be a friend? So what if the pain in the ass had a girlfriend? Jinyoung should be celebrating! He had one less annoyance to deal with. He didn’t mind that Jackson stopped inviting him to his fencing matches. And he absolutely _didn’t_ miss the Chinese boy’s constant presence.

He was so busy trying to convince himself of this fact, that he didn’t notice he was subconsciously walking to the aforementioned fencer’s desk until he was awkwardly standing in front of his little posse and the classroom chatter hushed to a low murmur. 

“I– You weren’t–” Jinyoung huffed in frustration at his inability to articulate his thoughts properly. He glanced up to see Jackson looking at him, the older boy’s expression a mix of confusion, amusement, and anticipation. He cleared his throat for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He didn’t know what he was trying to say or do for a silent moment, and then something clicked in his brain.

“Are you still going to the _noraebang_ after school?”

That was probably it. He wanted to hang out with him because he wanted to know who his alleged girlfriend was, and what made Jackson so likeable. Yup, Jinyoung was just irritated because the most insufferable person he knew managed to get a significant other before he did. That was it!

Except maybe he wasn’t so convinced with his newfound theory, because he still couldn’t explain why he felt his stomach flip when Jackson grinned up at him excitedly like he wasn’t the subject of Jinyoung’s confusing frustration.

“Yeah! Go with us, Jinyoung!”

❀❀❀

Jinyoung winced slightly as he walked through the inconspicuous-looking double doors and was greeted with loud, off-pitch voices and indiscernible screeches that travelled through the thin walls.

Jackson glanced over at him and laughed loudly, patting his shoulder. “It’s always like this. We just got used to it.” He flashed a wide grin, and tugged Jinyoung’s sleeve to lead him through the narrow hallway. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you to the others.”

“Is your girlfriend gonna be there?” Jinyoung asked out of pure curiosity.

“Girlfriend?” Jackson looked back at him, as if he were confused at the sudden question.

“Yeah, your girlfriend. Jaebeom hyung told me you finally have one.”

“Oh, her? We broke up already.”

“Huh?” Jinyoung tilted his head, clearly surprised at that new piece of information. “That– But you– I didn’t–”

“We just didn’t vibe, I guess. We both decided to end it. Two days ago.” Jackson just shrugged nonchalantly. “Getting to the deep conversations already, are we? We only became friends now, you know?”

Jinyoung blushed, realizing how stupid he must’ve looked, but Jackson just laughed and patted his shoulder again.

“I was just kidding, Jinyoungie! We can talk about anything you want~” Jackson smiled, and Jinyoung felt the urge to clear his throat again.

He couldn’t reply properly because they finally reached the room assigned to them. Jackson opened the door, and enthusiastically greeted the people already inside.

“Jinyoungie, this is Doojoon hyung, and that’s Gikwang hyung. They’re third years. Hyungs, this is Jinyoung, my classmate.”

Jinyoung smiled politely as the two older people pulled him further into the room. They motioned for him to sit, then handed him a glass of water and the remote to pick a song. After a while of figuring out what to sing, Jinyoung silently keyed in a few numbers, and the instrumental for Missing You by Fly to the Sky started playing. Gikwang seemed to brighten up as he took two mics and handed the other over to Jinyoung. “Great choice.” He grinned, and Jinyoung returned the grin before they started to sing.

He loathed to admit it, but Jinyoung was having _fun_. A few more songs and bottles of beer in, and he loosened up. Next thing they knew, he and Jackson were both singing along to Shinhwa and TVXQ classics because the others had the audacity to declare themselves as non-fans. 

It was a Wednesday, but they didn’t have school the next day, so it just meant that Jinyoung didn’t have an excuse to go home early. Although Jinyoung found that he didn’t really wanna go back to his empty dorm room yet, not when he was actually enjoying this night out. So by the time it struck eleven o’clock, Jinyoung was already feeling a little light-headed despite only having two or three beer bottles. Jackson, who lived in the dorm building right beside his, was tasked by the group to help him get back to his dorm. 

“You… You aren’t so bad.” He poked Jackson’s chest as if it would help him get the message across. He leaned onto the older even more. He felt Jackson’s grip tighten around his waist to keep both of them from stumbling. “Thought you’d be more… unbearable.” Jackson laughed loudly and patted his shoulder with a free hand.

“You aren’t so bad, yourself.”

After that night, it didn’t take Jinyoung long to realize that he actually enjoyed being around Jackson. It was as if, after finally giving the brunette a chance, the proverbial dam broke and they grew close, as the two of them quickly realized how compatible their personalities were. Jinyoung didn’t expect Jackson to have moments of serious contemplation, and Jackson didn’t expect Jinyoung to be a dork. There were days when Jinyoung would listen to Jackson rant about his frustrations before giving the best advice, and other days when the older would reassure Jinyoung when he was consumed by his fears and insecurities. They clicked like the final two pieces of a puzzle.

Every day that they spent together (and they _did_ spend everyday together now, much to Jaebeom’s amusement and numerous _I told you so_ ’s) they learned something new. After half a year, they had all of each other’s mannerisms, habits, interests, insecurities and secrets memorized and organized in the depths of their minds. Jackson would even joke with Jaebeom sometimes that he was more of a best friend to Jinyoung now, and Jaebeom would just roll his eyes and reply with a _“This isn’t a competition, Jacks. But I was first, so I’m still the better best friend”_.

And maybe Jinyoung was a little grateful that he eventually pulled his head out of his ass to give Jackson a chance. He _did_ get a new best friend out of it, after all.

❀❀❀

It was surprisingly easy for Jinyoung to open up to Jackson and be honest with him, and he’d like to think Jackson felt the same way.

“I don’t know if I still want to be a preschool teacher, Seunnie…” Jinyoung admitted one night, using his newfound nickname. It was one of their usual hang outs when Jackson would stay the night at Jinyoung’s dorm room, using the cold winter weather as an excuse to squeeze himself into Jinyoung’s tiny single bed and share his blanket. For some reason, Jinyoung never really got annoyed at it. He always let Jackson do whatever he wanted. That night, they were both awake at an ungodly hour for no particular reason.

“Why not? Wasn’t it your dream or something?”

“Well, it’s more of what my dad said I should do. I know I need a stable job after graduating, and a stable income. But Seun, I can’t stop thinking about how much happier I’d be if I danced for a living…” Jinyoung shifted his weight until he was lying on his side and looking into Jackson’s eyes. He never realized how pretty they were, especially as the soft moonlight reflected off of them.

Sometime during the last weeks of the winter vacation, Jackson called Jinyoung at five in the morning, asking him to go with him on a road trip. Jinyoung just made a disbelieving sound. It was almost spring, and all the ice and snow already started to thaw, but it was still too cold to go outside, let alone go on a road trip.

“Just this once, Jinyoung. It’s important. Please~?” he could hear Jackson’s pout over the phone. His friend knew that Jinyoung couldn’t say no to him anyway. “We don’t even have to bring anything, just our wallets and bus passes.”

“Fine, let me get dressed…” Jinyoung sighed as Jackson let out a triumphant whoop.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Jinyoung thought to ask as they got in the bus that Jackson told them to ride. Jackson answered when they found some seats at the back.

“To the beach.”

“What? Are you _crazy_? It’s too cold to go there!”

“I know! That’s why it’s fun!”

“Oh my god, you’re impossible.”

And so, after a two-hour ride, they hopped off at a station near Eurwangni Beach, and Jackson dragged him silently towards the shore. Jinyoung looked at the horizon and inhaled, the familiar scent of the sea calming him instantly. The sun was already up, but its radiant glow wasn’t harsh yet. Jinyoung didn’t notice how long they stood there in silence, just basking in the sunrise.

“I’m gay,” Jackson said nonchalantly, like he was just talking about the weather. Jinyoung took one glance at the other’s tense form and knew that as much as he wanted to sound unbothered, Jackson was anxious. It was obvious that Jackson valued Jinyoung’s opinion of him. It was apparent that he didn’t want his revelation to affect their friendship negatively. He just wanted to rip the figurative band-aid off.

“I am too. You aren’t special,” Jinyoung said in his usual stoic, emotionless tone. He watched the tension bleed out of Jackson’s shoulders instantly. Jinyoung slung his arm over the fencer in a half-hug, silently giving his support, and Jackson grinned in response, looking relieved.

“I don’t wanna be a fencer my whole life either, Nyoungie,” Jackson confessed as they sat at their usual spot under the evodia tree, now colored with the dark red blooms that marked the beginning of spring again. A year after they became friends. “I don’t want to be _just_ a fencer for my whole life. I feel like I’m meant to be something _more_.”

Jinyoung hummed in agreement, a little pleased that only _he_ got to see Jackson’s more serious side.

It wasn’t until summer when he realized that he felt something a little more than friendship for the fencer.

It couldn’t be normal for him to think about how attractive his classmate was when he wiped his sweat off with his arm, or to think about how he wanted to go swimming with the other just to see him shirtless. It definitely wasn’t normal to want to see Jackson happy and imagine that it was because he was with Jinyoung.

It was official – he liked his best friend. 

It was surprisingly easy for Jinyoung to be honest with Jackson, but he was sure this was something he shouldn’t be honest about just yet. Or ever.

**_I wonder where the love goes_ **

**_When pleasure turns to pain_ **

**_When the memories fade away_ **

**_Can you tell me what happens?_ **

Jinyoung’s very first petal was a pink camellia.

The day he found out started like any normal day. It was surprisingly warm for a mid-autumn school day. The sun shone brightly and casted a beautiful glow on the reddish leaves flowing through the air, blissfully unaware that it would eventually provide warmth for the little bud starting to take root deep in his lungs. 

Jinyoung was in the dance studio waiting for Jackson to finish his fencing training, since the older wanted Jinyoung to accompany him while he went out to buy new fencing equipment. It was perfect timing, because he had wanted to buy a new CD player. 

He checked his watch, and saw that he had about ten minutes before Jackson would show up, so he took a quick bathroom break. As he walked back to the studio and reached out to slide the door open, he heard voices come from inside the room. Not wanting to awkwardly burst in mid-conversation, he pulled his hand back from the door handle, leaned with his back to the nearby wall, and waited patiently for an ample pause to walk in.

_“Jacks, why are you here of all places? The dance studio is hardly the right place for an athlete like you.”_

Jinyoung scoffed silently. This guy was awfully judgemental. He obviously didn’t know anything about what Jackson actually liked to do – or of the fact that their _star fencer_ would accompany Jinyoung in this very studio at least thrice a week to choreograph with him.

_“Hm? Oh, well I actually like coming here. It’s peaceful. But if you’re asking about why we’re here now, it’s because I’m waiting for Jinyoungie.”_

_“Jinyoungie? Like our class president Park Jinyoung? You guys are always together nowadays. Are you guys… a thing?”_

_“Huh? A thing? Nah, we aren’t. We just get along.”_

Jinyoung felt it again – the uncomfortable burning sensation clawing its way up his throat, the weird fluttering feeling in his lungs, and the urge to clear his airways. He’d heard enough and wanted to save Jackson from the awkward conversation, but his hand stopped abruptly when he heard what the older’s team mate said next.

_“So you finally won him over, huh? How much do Jinhyuk hyung and I owe you from the bet?”_

Jinyoung suddenly couldn’t breathe. The strange fluttering in his lungs intensified, and he let out a sharp gasp in response, before releasing a dry cough in an attempt to dislodge the lumps sticking to the walls of his throat. He stepped away from the studio and briskly walked away as he heard the door slide open and someone call his name out in a distressed tone. 

Frustrated tears pooled in his eyes as he continuously cycled between coughing and gulping for air. Won him over? _Won him over??_ What was this, some sick game that the whole fencing team decided to play on him? He raised an arm to wipe his tears, but before he could, someone grabbed him and turned him around. He let out a small cough before he looked up and saw Jackson’s distraught, panic-ridden expression.

_He probably just wants to save face._

“Jinyoungie, _please_. I–”

“Let go of me. Go collect your money.” Jinyoung was surprised at how calm and collected he sounded, especially since he couldn’t deny how much his heart hurt at the moment. He took advantage of the momentary pause in coughing to yank his arm away from his classmate’s grip. “I bet it was fun for you to see me break down my walls for you. God, how could I be so _stupid_?”

He sighed in frustration and bit his lip to stop the urge to cry. “I hope you’re happy that you earned your money well. You should have a trophy for being the only person to make me feel this vulnerable.”

“That’s not–”

“Congratulations,” Jinyoung said with the best stoic expression he could muster, and turned to walk away, leaving behind a pained-looking Jackson.

When Jinyoung was sure Jackson wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity, he finally let the tears fall. He felt so foolish, so _used_. To think that he was stupid enough to share so much about himself, and even worse, to like the dolt so easily. He looked up, hand automatically rising up to shield his eyes from the bright setting sun. The clear weather and cloudless coral sky seemed to mock him, serving as a stark contrast against the storm brewing in his heart.

He didn’t know how, but his aimless walking led him safely to his dorm room. The soft click of the door closing echoed loudly across the empty room, amplifying his heartbreak. He felt a suffocating weight press against his chest, and couldn’t stop the flurry of coughs that followed. He sluggishly headed towards the small fridge and pulled out a cold bottle of water. He downed it in a few gulps, hoping it would help deter the coughs, but it only managed to soothe his throat a bit before the coughs continued. He felt something dislodge from the back of his throat, and with a particularly painful hack, he felt something shoot out of his mouth and into his hand. Grateful that he was given a short reprieve, he slowly opened his fist and stared at the object sitting in the middle of his palm – baby pink, slightly rounded, and soft to the touch. Was that… a petal?

Jinyoung was then reminded of all the times he had to cough or clear his throat, and his expression gradually paled. How could he not have noticed?

Hanahaki. He had Hanahaki.

He’d only heard of the disease from his aunt when he was younger. He’d never seen it happen to anyone around him so he assumed it was a rare condition. But here he was with a flowerbed in his lungs. His mother warned him when he was younger.

_“_ _Guard your heart, Jinyoung.”_ she said, for what kind of mother would want their child to die of an unrequited love? He was told to guard his heart, because the price of an unrequited love was a slow, painful death – a death where the pretty, fragrant flowers would eventually fill his lungs until he breathed his last. He was told to guard his heart because there were only two known cures: to confess his love and have it reciprocated, or to undergo a surgery to take the flower out, and with it any memory of the person he loved.

What kind of a son was he, then, who couldn’t even heed his own mother’s advice?

❀❀❀

He skipped school to stay in bed and wallow for the next few days. He ignored texts from Jaebeom, his sisters, and his dad, and didn’t even go out to attend dance practice. And when he finally decided to show up to class, an imaginary dark cloud loomed over his head everywhere he went. He ignored anyone who tried to talk to him, and only spoke when it was necessary. His class learned not to approach him when even his best friend couldn’t talk to him properly. He knew he was being unfair, but this was the best he could do to make up for the damage already dealt in the form of dainty pink petals. He had to build his walls back up so high there would be no reason for the pink camellias to grow.

It was the best he could do, but his best was not good enough to deal with Jackson Wang.

Jackson apparently saw right through his sad attempt at being indifferent, because right after school, the Chinese boy tried to confront him in the classroom. Jinyoung attempted to ignore the jerk at first, but Jackson kept walking beside him in silence until they got to the front of his dorm. He sighed and whirled around to face the other, scowl in place. 

“Why are you still bothering me? You got your money, didn’t you?” He snarled, his frustration bleeding into his words. Jackson looked up and a gasp slipped through Jinyoung’s lips when he finally got a proper look at the other. To anyone else, Jackson would look normal, but Jinyoung could see the small dark circles under his eyes and the slight crease between his brows. All indications seemed to point out that Jackson hadn’t been as happy as he thought he would be. It didn’t make any sense to Jinyoung – not when Jackson was supposed to be celebrating his triumph.

“You–” Jackson stammered, looking like he was struggling to find the right words to say to convey his emotions properly. Strange, especially from the person whom Jinyoung thought to be the most attuned to his emotions. Jackson took a deep breath before speaking again, “I was a complete jerk.”

It took everything Jinyoung had in him to refrain from rolling his eyes. “You don’t say…”

“I mean– I was a jerk, moron, idiot, dumbass, you name it. But please, Jinyoungie, give me a chance to explain?” Jackson asked with a hopeful look. “I promise I’ll respect whatever decision you make. If, after hearing me out, you’d never want to see me again, I swear I won’t bother you anymore.”

Jinyoung gave Jackson a skeptical squint, but soon relented and turned to unlock his door. He twisted the knob open, walked in, and tilted his head as a gesture for Jackson to enter. Jinyoung felt his defenses crashing down again when Jackson flashed a bright smile and quickly walked into his dorm room as if he were afraid that Jinyoung would take back his chance.

“Tea?” He offered mostly out of habit, but Jackson shook his head politely.

“No thanks, I figured I’d need to leave quickly in case you’d end up hating me forever.” Jackson stated as he gave Jinyoung a sheepish smile. “A-Anyway, I just wanted to apologize and explain. Just tell me what you think after, okay?”

Jinyoung sighed, then gestured to the bed and both of them sat while Jackson tried to recollect himself.

“The bet was true.” Jackson shot Jinyoung a look, daring him to shut him off like Jinyoung was clearly planning to do. “The bet was true, and the first time I ever approached you was because the bet was nearly impossible, and I like tough challenges,” He paused, biting his lip. “But for the past years, the money from the bet started to become less important, and genuine curiosity about you took over. And when we finally became friends, I forgot about the bet altogether.”

He gave Jackson a disbelieving look, and Jackson returned it with a pleading one. “Please believe me, Jinyoung. Out of all the friends I’ve made here, you’re the only one I could call a best friend. You’re the only one I genuinely like hanging out with. And Jaebeom too, of course. I didn’t even get the bet money! I have no idea how else to convince you that I’m telling the truth, but if it makes any difference, you’re the only one who knows all my secrets… Not even my _mom_ knows everything!”

Jinyoung interrupted Jackson’s monologue with a noise that sounded like a mix of a sigh and an amused chuckle. He looked at the Chinese boy’s face and let out another chuckle because Jackson looked like he was holding his breath.

“He’s your hyung, you know,” Jinyoung said, and Jackson’s constipated face just morphed into a confused one. “Jaebeom hyung.”

“ _That’s_ what you chose to comment on?” Jackson cried. He seemed less tense than before, so Jinyoung knew that his friend understood the meaning behind his words – apology accepted.

“I really am sorry, Jinyoungie. I hurt your feelings,” Jackson mumbled with a pout. Jinyoung held his arms out as an invitation, and smiled when Jackson leapt into the hug. The night went on like that, the two of them hugging it out on the bed and crying. Neither of them wanted to let go just yet.

It was then he realized he was in too deep. As Jinyoung suppressed a particularly strong cough, he lamented over the fact that he couldn’t find it in himself to shut Jackson out of his life, even if it meant he had to sacrifice his own.

Jackson Wang bulldozed his way into his life and broke down his walls for good.

Maybe it wasn’t a bad way to go.

❀❀❀

As the weeks passed by, Jinyoung’s cough started to worsen. The offending petals only increased in number, and he had to excuse himself to the restroom between classes at least twice a day. It didn’t help that he was always with Jackson and Jaebeom in his free time. Even that day, he chose not to attend dance practice. He’d been easily out of breath, so his best friends decided they would grab the opportunity and hang out at Jaebeom’s house. The three of them sat at their usual spot in the living room, Jinyoung mindlessly strumming on the guitar as the other two concentrated on writing random lyrics. He shifted chords a few times before he was pulled out of his trance by the sound of a pencil being placed on the table beside him. He looked up to see an equally confused Jaebeom and a contemplative looking Jackson.

“Jaebeom hyung, don’t become a doctor. Jinyoung, forget about being a preschool teacher.”

Jinyoung was so perplexed from Jackson’s statement that he only managed to let out a confused gurgle. 

“What are you talking about, Jacks?” Jaebeom asked.

“We all know what we actually want is to perform on stage. Let’s do that. The three of us.” Jackson looked so determined _,_ so _sure_ of this decision that Jinyoung just chuckled in response.

“It _is_ our dream. I wanna see it happen,” Jinyoung replied with a shrug. “Guess I have to give up being a teacher then,” He stated with an air of nonchalance that he could only feel because of the amount of trust he had in the two people in front of him. Jaebeom rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t fool anyone. He was in for the ride, too.

“Promise me.” Jackson grinned and held up both of his pinkies to his two closest friends. “Let’s promise to be on the stage together.” 

He laughed at the childish gesture, but linked his pinkies with Jackson and Jaebeom’s all the same.

“I promise.”

❀❀❀

Since it was a Friday night, Jinyoung took the bus straight home to his family from Jaebeom’s apartment. His breath wasn’t labored for the first time in weeks, and as he walked from the bus stop to his house, he admired the pinkish purple streaks across the sky without any interruptions. He spent the majority of his day with his closest friends, and was about to spend the weekend with his family whom he missed so much. He was feeling good today, and he probably had Jackson’s presence to thank for it.

The feeling lasted for a total of two hours until the moment that Jinyoung would later dub as his biggest regret – one that he would’ve done differently if he had the chance.

He was eating dinner with his family, updating them about what went on the past week. He was in the middle of retelling a story of the time he and Jackson made fun of Jaebeom getting scratched by a stray cat, when his mother spoke up.

“How’s Jackson? His parents are back in Hong Kong, aren’t they? He doesn’t get to eat home cooked meals as much as I’d want him to. You should bring him with you again the next time you come home.”

He smiled, a smile that his sister once told him looked like it was reserved for Jackson-related things. He was about to answer when he felt a pang in his heart, and the tell-tale burn that he thought would leave him alone just this once. He winced and startled his mother when he stood abruptly, chair screeching as he pushed away from the dining table, and quickly locked himself in the bathroom. 

Why did it have to hurt so much just to love someone? Every breath felt like a punishment, every cough an atonement for the only sin he was happy to commit – that of developing feelings without the expectation of them ever being returned. Some would say that developing Hanahaki was a reflection of selfishness and cowardice, but how can he agree when his biggest fear was for Jackson to find out and tell him he loved him just because he didn’t want his best friend to die? The last thing Jinyoung wanted was for Jackson to be with him out of pity, for him to feel trapped with no choice but to keep Jinyoung alive. All Jinyoung wanted was for Jackson to be happy, and these petals were proof that he wouldn’t be happy with him. 

His heavy thoughts muddled his brain as he hacked out petal after petal into the toilet bowl, tears falling freely as he gasped for air. He let out a small choked sob from the sheer pain of trying to dislodge the chunks of flora blocking his sore throat, and didn’t hear the click of the door being unlocked and opened. He looked up slowly when he heard a gasp, seeing the blurry form of his sister through his tears (he could tell it was Boyoung noona, judging from her short hair). 

He must’ve looked pretty pathetic, sitting on the floor of the bathroom, eyes puffy, with stray petals surrounding him. His sister didn’t say a word as she left and came back with a glass of cold water. She helped him sit against the bathroom wall, wiped his face gently with a towel, and held out the glass for him to drink. He didn’t realize how parched he was, or how dry his throat was until the cold water soothed him. His coughs subsided and he leaned on his sister’s shoulder. 

“Is it Jackson?” His sister asked quietly, as if she were afraid to break the silence. Jinyoung just nodded, still not able to find his voice. Boyoung shuffled closer and helped him get up, rid the floor of small pink petals, and made him finish the glass. “Come on, let’s go to mom. She’s worried about you.”

His biggest regret was his decision to tell his parents about his Hanahaki. Telling them eventually helped him breathe a little better, but it didn’t remove the ache or the longing he had for his first love.

**_Flowers in your hair, now on our grave_ **

**_A little bit of pressure’s all it takes_ **

**_Should’ve known we’d shatter that we’d break_ **

Jinyoung’s petals turned into azaleas. 

_Take care of yourself for me_ , it meant, as if mocking Jinyoung for his decision to leave Seoul without turning back. Sometimes he’d try to defend himself by thinking that his parents left him with no other choice, but it didn’t change the fact that he left two years ago – off to Busan without saying goodbye, and cutting off all forms of communication with anyone in Seoul.

His mother seemed to think their insistence to move away worked. His coughs subsided after being apart from Jackson for so long. He was less pale, and he didn’t have a hard time while dancing anymore. 

There were times, though, when the flowers in his lungs would remind him of their presence. It wasn’t much of a bother to his health as much as it was an indication that the disease was still there – that his feelings remained unchanged. 

Every time he would stare at the pinkish-purple petal on his palm, his mind would reel with cherished moments, deep regrets, and _longing_. He never stopped thinking of Jackson; _couldn’t_ stop thinking of Jackson. He’d wonder if Jackson kicked off his blanket like he did every night only to wake up cold in the morning; every lunch, he’d worry that Jackson would eat too much cheese sticks and not enough substantial food.

It became a cycle of first grieving the fact that he would never bring himself to love anyone else this way – of dooming himself into a hopeless downward spiral. Then, he’d take it back and get mad at himself for entertaining that thought, especially when he couldn’t imagine loving anyone other than Jackson Wang. Jackson Wang, who he would never see again.

But he still had the same dream, and a promise to keep. It was that promise that led him to this moment. There he was, leaving Busan to return to Seoul, leaving everything behind again to stand in front of the building where he would spend the rest of his life – in the hopes that he would make a name for himself and fulfill his promise of standing on stage. 

He remembered his parents’ crestfallen faces as he told them of his plans to return to the big city. They were furious, saying he was just wasting their efforts to keep him healthy. They had a huge fight that night, hurtful words thrown between them. But it was his life, and he would live it how he wanted to. He had a dream to work towards, and he couldn’t accomplish that in Busan. 

He saved enough money from his allowance and various part-time jobs, and used that as leverage to convince his parents to let him go. He would build his future on his own, and his family knew that they could never dissuade Jinyoung once he set his mind on something.

He briefly wondered if the others would even remember their silly promise. He knew it was a far fetched dream, but he liked to think their passion would lead them to a life where their dream could be a reality. Part of him wished he would never have to see them again, that he would never have to explain himself or re-live the pain. Maybe he didn’t want to see two of the (still) most important people in his life look at him with either confusion, hurt, or disdain. But the more selfish part of him wanted to at least see them on the same stage, like a cathartic attainment of their childhood pipe dream.

Jinyoung sighed. It wasn’t the time to think of such things. The odds that Jackson or Jaebeom would audition for JYP Entertainment were pretty slim. If anything, those two would pick YG – creative license and all. He just resigned himself to the idea that he wouldn’t have the chance to meet his friends yet. Still, thinking of them and their school days together put a genuine smile on his face as he walked through the automatic doors for the first time.

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of introductions to key staff members, appointments with hair and make up, preliminary photo shoots, and a company tour – the last stop being the trainee dorms where he only had enough time to drop his luggage off before he was whisked away again to go to the other Park Jinyoung’s office. He let out a small sigh as he and another staff member waited for the elevator to bring them to the highest floor.

“Tired?”

Jinyoung looked up to see the staff look at him with concerned eyes and a small smile.

“No, I’m okay. I’m just a bit… overwhelmed,” He replied as he looked down and bit his lip. The staff just chuckled and patted his back.

“Well, it’s your first day. I’m surprised you’ve been keeping up pretty well until now.” The staff held out his hand. “I’m Hyungwoong, Kim Hyungwoong. Just call me Hyungwoong hyung. I’m a choreographer.”

Jinyoung scrunched his eyebrows together. “Why…”

“Why did I accompany you this whole day?” Hyungwoong finished his sentence for him with an amused grin. “It’s ‘cause you’re gonna spend time with myself and some other trainees after this. Jinyoung hyung is planning to make you debut with them after a few years.”

Jinyoung nodded, trying to process what Hyungwoong just said. It felt like his dream was slowly becoming a reality. The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and Jinyoung took a step forward to his future.

❀❀❀

Jinyoung felt tense the whole day, then Hyungwoong finally led him to the dance studio and Jinyoung felt his tension bleed out of him slowly. It was soon replaced by the excitement at dancing with a professional choreographer. He could admit that dancing was, and still is, a huge part of his life – his lifeforce. Counting one to eight came to him as naturally as each breath he took. And since he was little, he only ever got to choreograph and dance with school mates; never with a professional like Hyungwoong. To say he was thrilled was an understatement.

Hyungwoong walked into the dance studio first, and Jinyoung stopped a bit to get his bearings. He wanted to give a good first impression to the people he would have to spend most of his time with in the company.

“Guys, the new trainee’s here. Stand up! Say hi!”

Jinyoung shuffled further into the studio, and looked up with a smile ready on his face. His smile suddenly faltered, and his breath got caught in his throat, because there they were standing in front of him – Jackson Wang and Lim Jaebeom in the flesh. 

His mind was working a mile a minute. He was terrified, but he also felt a bit relieved because they could stand on stage together after all. This was the first he’d seen them in two years, and they both looked different, but Jinyoung knew them too well not to recognize them. His heart pounded and he did his best to suppress a cough as he looked Jackson in the eyes.

Yup, he was still hopelessly in love with him.

His eyes widened, and anyone could hear a pin drop in the deafening silence. He didn’t get a chance to speak, as Jackson shot him a bone-chilling glare and turned away to stomp out of the studio. Jaebeom shot him a look that screamed _“we need to talk later”_ and took off to follow Jackson.

Jinyoung sighed. So much for good first impressions.

“Uh, not to be rude, but what the heck?” One of the two other trainees spoke up.

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry. I deserved that.” Jinyoung gave a small sheepish smile. “We were friends in middle school…”

“Were?” The other, younger looking trainee asked.

“Y-Yeah. I had to move to Busan, but never had the chance to tell them.” The other trainees looked at him skeptically, but they seemed to accept the explanation for now.

“Oh, so you were from Seoul? That explains why you don’t seem to have the Busan accent,” Hyungwoong commented, and Jinyoung nodded.

“It’s nice to meet you both. I’m JYP.” He grinned at Hyungwoong’s amused huff and the trainees’ confused expressions. “No, really. My name’s Park Jinyoung. I may have some history with Jaebeom hyung and Jackson, but I hope we can still get along.”

“I’m Mark.” The older trainee flashed a toothy smile and waved, speaking with wild gestures as he seemed to have a hard time speaking Korean.“I’m eighteen, and I’m from LA, so I’m still learning the language. I hope we can get along, too! Don’t worry about them, they’ll come along. I mean, you were friends, right? I’m sure you’ll be friends again in no time.” Jinyoung smiled, grateful for Mark’s reassurance. He was his hyung. A year older. They had just met, but Jinyoung felt like he could feel comfortable around him.

“My name is Kunpimook Bhuwakul, I’m from Thailand.” The younger boy smiled and waved shyly.

“Kunpi… Kumpi- Kunmipook?” Jinyoung pouted, and the younger just giggled with a wide smile.

“You can call me Bambam,” he said, eyes filled with mirth. “Might be easier for you to pronounce.”

Jinyoung’s pout deepened. “Why didn’t you say so earlier! I looked like an idiot…”

Bambam just laughed, and Jinyoung found it too cute for him to keep being annoyed.

“Well, it looks like I can’t really continue the dance workshop today, not until we gather all five of you,” Hyungwoong sighed, rubbing his temple.

“I’ll… I’ll go,” Jinyoung declared with a soft, but determined tone. He bowed slightly at the others before shuffling out of the dance studio.

He was starting to regret his choice to look for his friends the moment he turned into an unfamiliar hallway. What he initially thought to be a short “search and drag back to the studio” mission turned into an hour of aimlessly walking around the building, lost, and unable to find his way back. That was, until he turned another corner and bumped into someone, the force of the collision landing both of them on the floor. He quickly got up to face the person he ran into, apologies already on the tip of his tongue, but his words got stuck in his throat as he was once again brought face-to-face with Jackson. 

Jinyoung licked his lips nervously. “I–”

Jackson didn’t even let him speak. The former fencer didn’t give him another sharp glare this time; he just walked past him like he didn’t exist. Jinyoung stood there, unable to move. He knew Jackson would treat him this way had they met again after all this time. He didn’t expect any less, and believed he deserved it. Jinyoung was prepared to deal with Jackson’s raised voices and offending curses, but he didn’t expect Jackson to treat him so coldly. He was cast aside, deemed unimportant, like a small insignificant speck of dust. And he _did_ deserve to feel this way, because this was probably everything that Jackson felt for the past two years. One can only inflict pain that he has already felt, after all.

He knew it was right for Jackson to act this way, but it definitely hurt. Knowing and understanding why Jackson treated him this way didn’t erase the pain at all. It certainly didn’t stop the flowers from fluttering in his lungs. He leaned on the wall slightly, coughing up a handful of petals again. The pinkish-purple petals lay innocently at the center of his palm, oblivious to his silent suffering.

“Is that why you left?”

With wide eyes, he quickly put his hand in his pocket to hide what was in his palm. He looked up to see Hyungwoong pinning him with a contemplative stare.

“Is it?” Hyungwoong egged on, clearly not stopping until he had an answer.

“Yes. M-My parents wanted to keep me away from Seoul. Said I was stupid for not wanting to do the surgery…” he mumbled, fiddling with the soft petals in his pocket. He felt a movement in front of him and flinched, expecting Hyungwoong to lecture him or kick him out of the company because he’d eventually be an unprofitable liability. He didn’t expect the gentle, reassuring pat on his shoulder.

“You aren’t stupid for wanting to hold on. On the contrary, I feel stupid for going through with the surgery.” he said, and Jinyoung inhaled sharply as he tried to process what Hyungwoong just told him.

“Hyung, you…” he bit his lip, trying to imagine his life without a single memory of and with Jackson. “How did you…”

Hyungwoong just smiled and slung an arm around his shoulder. “I was just a proud little bastard back then. I didn’t care about the consequences, and I didn’t want to acknowledge my feelings. You could imagine how disastrous it was for me and that person afterwards.” He sighed, leading Jinyoung back to the dance studio. Apparently, the choreographer went out to look for him after realizing that he could get lost.

“Woongie hyung, can I talk to him for a while?”

Jinyoung knew whose voice it was without even looking up. How could he forget the sound of Jaebeom’s voice, when he used to nag him everyday? Still, he couldn’t find the courage to look him in the eye.

Hyungwoong patted his shoulder one more time before he walked in the studio, leaving the two childhood friends to stew in the awkward silence. Jinyoung started to play with the petals in his pocket again, mostly because he was still too ashamed to speak. 

He jolted when he heard Jackson’s unmistakable loud laugh pierce through the silence and strike at his heart. He winced, as if hearing him laugh confirmed that he didn’t need Jinyoung in his life to be happy. And that’s what Jinyoung wanted, right? He could disappear again now and everything would still be okay because Jackson Wang was happier, was better off without him in the picture. He had to live that reality from here on out. He leaned on the wall for support again, doing everything he could to keep the coughs at bay.

“It’s like I don’t exist to him anymore,” he murmured, still not looking up.

“Whose fault do you think that is?” Jinyoung flinched. He never heard Jaebeom speak so coldly before. He looked up with frustrated tears pooling at the edge of his eyes, his face reflecting all of the emotions he accumulated for the past years – frustration, helplessness, loneliness, and a lot of pain.

“You think I _wanted_ all of this? You think I _planned_ to leave the two most important people in my life behind? You think I chose to give myself such a hard time for two years?” He hissed in reply. All of his suppressed emotions morphed into anger and spilled out of him like a raging waterfall. He didn’t need to confront all of the conflicting feelings within him until this very moment, and the last remnants of his stoic, unbothered façade slipped away. 

He never really knew how to keep his cool if Jackson was involved.

“I never wanted any of this to happen. You both probably didn’t even want to see me anymore, but I’m sorry. I’m not giving up my dream, and I’m not backing down from the promise the three of us made to each other. That’s the only thing I can hold onto, now that you guys hate me.” His anger fizzled out, and all that was left was the exhaustion that he felt deep in his bones. The awkward silence returned, and Jaebeom’s footsteps echoed as he slowly walked closer.

“We don’t hate you. We never could and never will. We just… want answers.”

“Jackson looks the part. He walked past me like I was a ghost.”

“You know him, he just needs time to process things. It’s been two years, Nyoung.” 

Jinyoung’s eyes widened at the mention of his old nickname and he looked at Jaebeom with a painfully hopeful stare. “H-Hyung…” he bit his lip, not trusting his shaky voice and trembling lip to form coherent sentences.

“How’ve you been?”

They were three simple words, but these three words meant everything to the two childhood friends. In between these words were the hidden _we missed you, I was worried, welcome back, I forgive you,_ and _we’re okay._ Those words were enough for Jinyoung’s tears to finally fall. He felt someone tug him into a hug and pat his back, his own shoulder a bit damp with Jaebeom’s silent tears. They were never really the type of best friends who were good with expressing their feelings to each other. A lot of things between them were better off left unsaid. Besides, it was Jackson who liked talking about mushy things. 

Jinyoung pulled away after a while, and wiped his eyes to try to look presentable again.

“You’re lucky you have such small eyes. No one would notice you cried at all, hyung.” Jaebeom rolled his eyes and hit his shoulder in fake-annoyance.

“You aren’t off the hook just yet, Park Jinyoung, you owe us an explanation. If you aren’t good with telling us now, we’ll wait. But _please_ , fix things with Jackson, alright? We’re most likely going to debut together. You two aren’t helping this team’s dynamic.” Jaebeom sighed, and Jinyoung nodded as his best friend pulled him back to the studio.

“Sorry that took so long. We’re good now. Let’s start?” Jaebeom declared with a sheepish grin.

“Wait, so what _are_ you three?” Mark asked, looking genuinely curious. 

“We were classmates in middle school! Jinyoung’s our best friend~” Jaebeom spoke up before Jinyoung could, and he couldn’t bear to look at Jackson’s reaction. And in hindsight, he was glad he didn’t look at Jackson’s face at that time, because his next words felt like knives driven through his chest. It took all his willpower to keep himself from vomiting out all the petals in his lungs.

“Just to make it clear, Jaebeom hyung is my best friend. _He’s_ just an old acquaintance.”

❀❀❀

Jinyoung sighed as he plopped down on his futon, exhausted from dancing and singing at half his normal breathing capacity. It had been a week, the situation with Jackson wasn’t getting any better, and neither was his health. No matter how hard Jinyoung tried to start a conversation, Jackson would ignore him or actively avoid him. It still hadn’t affected the group negatively, but everyone could feel the heavy tension in the room whenever all five of them gathered. Though, sometimes Mark would accompany him to the cafeteria and talk to him about whatever he thought was an interesting topic. The others never told him that their perceptions of him were affected in any way, but Jinyoung could see it in the small flinches when he tapped them on the shoulder, or in the group’s decision to let Jinyoung have a room in the dorm to himself.

Everything hurt, and this was definitely not what he envisioned to be his road to achieving his dreams. Some nights, he’d let all the negative thoughts consume him, let them drown him and keep him awake until the next early-morning schedule. He silently cried his frustrations away one too many times – alone, like he believed he deserved to be.

Every time Jaebeom asked him if he was alright, he’d lie and say he was fine. Because he had to be fine. He couldn’t give up. He knew that deep down, Jackson still believed in the promise the three of them made – the only thought that helped keep him going. He wasn’t going to back down or give up on Jackson, because Jackson never gave up on him either.

A year passed, and their small group of mismatched trainees were introduced to two new recruits – Kim Yugyeom, who lived to dance and put all his heart and soul in every movement, and Choi Youngjae, who had the voice of an angel, and the laugh that melted all of their hearts. They caught on early that he and Jackson didn’t have the best relationship, so they always tried their best to keep the weird tension at a low. 

The seven of them were considered complete, and set to debut in two months. Jinyoung didn’t even think he _had_ two months, if he were to be frank. He was getting tired a bit more easily, and his inhales came in shorter and shorter.

“This whole situation isn’t helping your Hanahaki, Jinyoung-ah,” Hyungwoong told him when he pulled Jinyoung aside after a particularly tiring dance workshop.

“I’m trying… He doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore,” Jinyoung admitted softly, his head hanging low. “I don’t know if I can debut with them. I’m scared, Woongie hyung.”

“Try to talk to him, again. Even if you don’t confess, you’ll probably feel a bit better if you two were on speaking terms,” The choreographer suggested, patting his back gently.

“I’ll try again, hyung,” Jinyoung agreed, trying to give a reassuring smile even if he didn’t think anything would change any time soon.

❀❀❀

A month later, he finally got the courage to ask for Mark’s help. The oldest trainee gladly obliged to keep Jackson in the recording studio for as long as he could. After one of their recording sessions, Mark sent Jinyoung a look. He then asked Jackson to stay behind and help him with his verse. 

Jinyoung quickly understood, and purposely slowed his movements to let the others leave the room first. When the two rappers seemed to finish their practice, he made his way to the door, ready to block it after Mark left. The eldest nudged him to wish him good luck before he went out of the studio.

His hands were shaking as he stood firmly in front of the door, blocking Jackson’s only way out. He steeled his expression, waiting for Jackson to notice that they were the only ones left. The former-fencer looked up and immediately frowned when he noticed Jinyoung. He walked towards the door, and stopped right in front of the dancer, giving him a glare that would’ve sent any other person running for the hills. But this was Jinyoung, the person who knew Jackson the most, and the only one who could match his stubbornness.

“Move,” Jackson demanded curtly, his jaw squared.

“Can we talk?” Jinyoung asked, surprised that his voice didn’t waver.

“No.” Jackson replied as he tried to make Jinyoung move out of his way with a push to his shoulder. He managed to shove Jinyoung a bit to the side, enough for him to grab the door knob. 

In his panic and desperation, Jinyoung held onto Jackson’s sleeve, keeping his head down to hide his glassy eyes. For some reason, the older trainee didn't try to shake him off.

“D-Do you want to go to the _noraebang_ with me?”

Jinyoung bit his lip, anxiety starting to muddle his brain as the silence stretched on. Every second Jackson wasn’t talking felt like torture, and Jinyoung was unsure if what he said got through to the stubborn rapper.

Some things never changed. Jackson was still the most hard-headed person he’d ever met.

He was about to let go of Jackson’s sleeve – and give up for good – when he felt a tight grip on his wrist. A strong tug followed. The next thing he knew, he felt warm all over, and his face was smothered by Jackson’s soft hoodie. He gasped, tentatively gripping Jackson’s arm with a shaky hand.

“You–” he heard Jackson’s voice crack, but his mind focused on the comfort and warmth the hug brought him. His senses were drowned out by Jackson’s scent. He buried his head further into the soft material of the hoodie, and realized that he could breathe in more easily. 

“You’re being unfair, Park Jinyoung. How can I keep ignoring you if you say shit like that…” Jackson sounded like he was talking in between hiccups. Only then did Jinyoung realize that the older was crying.

“I didn’t want to play fair,” Jinyoung murmured against Jackson’s shoulder. His arms wound around Jackson and gripped the back of his hoodie. He rubbed circles on the rapper’s back in a comforting gesture, and his other hand patted the back of Jackson’s head, just like he always did in the past. 

“I know I was an idiot, and I know I hurt you. I just… wanted to do what I could to get my best friend back.” His voice started to tremble, and he couldn’t stop his tears from falling, too.

“I fucking missed you, you bastard,” Jackson whispered, like he was afraid Jinyoung wasn’t real. Jackson was afraid this was all a dream, and when he opened his eyes Jinyoung would vanish into thin air again. “I’m sorry for ignoring you.”

“I m-missed you too… more than you know…” Jinyoung sobbed. That must have made something click, because seconds later, the two reunited best friends let out all their frustrations, worries, and anger through tears and loud wails. They cried so loudly that the rest of the five trainees came barging into the studio, all with worried expressions. It seemed that the two of them didn’t notice the intrusion, because they didn’t stop crying and they still hadn’t let go of each other.

“First Mark hyung and Jaebeom hyung fight, then cry and make up. Now these hyungs, too? Who’s next, you and Bambam?” Yugyeom whispered to Youngjae, but it was only natural for it to be heard by everyone. It earned the youngest a slap on his shoulder from Jaebeom.

Their cries calmed down after a while, and Mark handed both of them a bottle of water. They took it with grateful, watery smiles. Jaebeom slung his arms over their shoulders, and pinched both of their cheeks, much to their chagrin.

“Are you guys good? Will you two finally stop being the cause of my daily migraines?” Jaebeom asked with a jokingly exasperated tone.

“You still owe me an explanation, you jerk. Who just up and leaves his bestest friends in the whole wide world without telling them?” Jackson exclaimed with a pout as he hit Jinyoung’s shoulder lightly.

“Why don’t we all discuss it over dinner? We still have some leftover kimchi stew from Youngjae’s mom in the dorm,” Mark suggested, and Jackson whined. 

“Jinyoung said we could go to the _noraebang_!”

Jaebeom’s eyes widened and gave Jinyoung a warm smile, knowing exactly what that statement meant for them. “Let’s all go, then! Our only schedule tomorrow is at night, anyway.”

❀❀❀

“ _I’m singing my BLUEEEEEEES, paran nunmul E paran seulpeuME gilDEULyeoJYEO~_ ”

“Someone get the mic away from Bambam, I _beg_ you!”

Jackson laughed at Youngjae’s pleading and stood up from his comfortable position on the couch, walking to the dial pad. He keyed in a song silently and stuck his tongue out in jest when Bigbang’s Blue stopped playing and Bambam whined. 

He took two mics and handed one to Jinyoung with a knowing smile. Jinyoung took the mic, and he couldn’t help but stare. The bright, technicolored lights were normally annoying, but they seemed to soften around Jackson. Jinyoung was pulled back from his trance when he heard the familiar intro of Fly to the Sky’s Missing You play in the background. Then, Jackson started singing, and Jinyoung couldn’t look away. The Chinese trainee was still as captivating as ever with his rough yet soothing voice, and the light illuminating his face in all the right places.

_He’s beautiful,_ Jinyoung thought, reminded of the many reasons why he fell in love with Jackson.

After all of them sang at the top of their lungs, they eventually went back to the dorm exhausted, but with lighter steps. They said their goodnight’s, and everyone went to their rooms. Jinyoung glanced behind him, and noticed that Jackson was still standing in the living room. He raised an eyebrow, and walked to the older, placing a hand on his shoulder. He suppressed another cough as Jackson looked up and their eyes met.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. I’m just a bit drained… Hey, can I stay in your room for a bit? I want the full story from you. I know you were holding stuff back when you explained awhile ago.” Jackson answered with a sad look in his eyes. Jinyoung panicked for a split-second, wondering what he could say to make Jackson believe him.

“Okay, c’mon.” Jinyoung’s hand slipped from the other’s shoulder, and tilted his head to the direction of his room. The two best friends shuffled to Jinyoung’s room and sat on the mattress.

“Why did you _really_ leave for Busan?”

“I told you, Seun-ah. My father had to relocate because of his promotion. My mom didn’t want me to stay in Seoul alone, so I had no choice but to go with them.”

“Without telling us? We had _cell phones_ , Nyoung. You could’ve called and told us you had to leave. Why did you leave without telling us? Without telling _me_?”

Jinyoung bit his lip with a heartbroken look in his eyes. He wished he could just tell Jackson the truth. Tell him that he was the reason why he had to leave, that he literally and figuratively took his breath away. He wished he had enough courage to profess his pure, undying love for the person sitting in front of him. 

How could he do that to Jackson, though? How could he impose such a thing, when Jackson should be free to love whomever made him happy? Jinyoung could never do that to him. He just resigned himself to the thought that Jackson couldn’t find full happiness with him. Jackson would just be a caged bird, forced to love him so he could stay alive.

Jinyoung would never wish that upon the person he loved, so he just had to live with the consequences. He could lay down his life for Jackson’s happiness, and that’s what he chose to do. He decided long ago that he would be by Jackson’s side for as long as he could. He would just support him and love him from afar – like what the azalea represented.

“I was a young, dumb asshole who just blindly followed what my parents asked me to do. I’m so sorry, Seun-ah. I should’ve called or texted you, but my mother told me not to. I was stupid enough to follow her and not fight back,” he looked down, reeling in his regret. “I’m so sorry.”

There was a beat of contemplative silence, and Jackson broke it with a low chuckle. “I could never say no to you. You know that, right?”

Jinyoung looked up to see Jackson grinning up at him, arms open wide. He scrambled forward and wrapped his arms around Jackson’s waist, burying his face in the crook of the older’s neck. He felt Jackson’s arms wind tightly around his shoulders. 

They stayed like that for a while, just basking in each other’s warmth, grateful to finally have each other back in their lives.

“You owe me a lifetime’s worth of cheese sticks and ice cream,” Jackson murmured with a pout, and Jinyoung just laughed.

“Alright, it’s a small price to pay for your forgiveness.”

“Damn right, it is! I could’ve easily asked you for a car!”

After that night, things went back to how they used to be. They were back to being best friends and became closer than ever.

Except, they were back to how they used to be, and they were still _just_ best friends.

Jinyoung could admit that his lungs worked better, but he still couldn’t stop clearing his throat or coughing. Hyungwoong helped him by teaching him some breathing exercises every now and then, but the more he and Jackson got close, the harder it became for him to hide his coughs, even to his other dorm-mates.

But he managed because he had to. They were scheduled to debut as GOT7 in a few weeks, and he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he backed down now.

❀❀❀

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> noraebang = karaoke room! :) I didn't translate it to English cause it sounded weird to me :<
> 
> this fic's title, and the lyrics that served as the body of this fic, are from Eric Nam's song Love Die Young! Give it a listen if you haven't yet~ It's a beautiful song!!


	2. Chapter 2

Five years later, Jinyoung realized his petal had changed into red carnations.

He didn’t know when his petal changed again, but through the years, its shape slowly morphed into a thin, ruffled petal, and its colors slowly turned from pinkish-purple to a deep red. _My heart aches for you_ , the petals declared, mirroring the depth of Jinyoung’s feelings. He couldn’t ignore it anymore. He had fallen to the point of no return. His emotions dragged him down to his impending doom. He _ached_ , he could agree with that wholeheartedly. 

He managed to hide his condition fairly well over the years, forcing his body to only cough when he was sure he was alone. It was easier to hide it now that they all lived in separate apartments. Every year, he would feel the flutter going stronger, and every now and then, he could feel a sharp stab in his chest as a root tightened its grip on the walls of his lungs. 

Jackson’s presence was both a blessing and a curse. It was painfully ironic how the only person who helped him regain his breath and made him feel alive was also the cause of his eventual death. Being near Jackson alleviated his suffering, but his suffering returned tenfold once he was gone.

They were preparing for _Spinning Top_ , their most recently scheduled comeback, and things were still manageable in the early stages of their preparations. Since he spent most of his time with Jackson, he still had enough energy to get through the tough rehearsals. 

Sometimes, Mark and Jaebeom would tell him he looked pale, but he’d easily shrug it off as lack of sleep. If he were caught looking out of breath while dancing, he’d say he couldn’t quite shake off his long-term asthma.

A month into their prep, Jinyoung realized he’d already pushed his luck way too far.

He had a solo schedule for the first time since their comeback activities started. Jinyoung thought he could get through it in one piece since it was just a recording session for the song he wrote. 

_끝. The End_. 

How fitting of a title for the song that was meant to serve as the culmination of all of his experiences – his last song. He poured his heart and soul into the four minute and three second track, translating his frustrations and fears into poetic words that aimed to linger in the hearts and minds of its listeners. He thought it was a good way to say goodbye – he had always dreamed of being an artist, and it was through his art that he would bid farewell.

_So, it’s the end_

_I’ll probably regret this moment_

_I found my universe through you_

_But I’ll lose it again in the end_

He had to repeat the recording multiple times, and each time he sang the first verse, his breathing got more and more labored. His chest felt heavy, like a ton of bricks were pressed against it, making it increasingly tiring to bring air into his lungs.

“Jinyoung-ah, are you ok?”

“Y-Yeah. I’m fine, hyung,” he flashed a small smile at Joon, or Distract as most people called him, and tried to take a deep inhale. He couldn’t give in now, not when he had to finish this song. Just this song.

“Do you wanna take a short break? Get back in here and I’ll give you some water.”

Jinyoung nodded, and walked out of the recording booth. Joon handed him a bottle of chilled water, and the cool fluid soothed his throat.

“What happened, Jinyoung-ah? You’ve been looking really sick lately,” Joon asked, his brows scrunched up in worry.

“I’m fine, hyung. It’s just my old asthma that went back for some reason. I’ll get myself checked, I promise.” he smiled what he hoped would look like a reassuring grin, and not a forced grimace. Joon looked like he wasn’t convinced, but he let the topic go and asked him to go back inside the recording booth. The water helped, but it still took all of his strength to keep singing.

_Even if our world ends,_

_I’ll remain in this song_

He was grateful that Jinyoung hyung agreed to add his song in the album, even if their PD-nim didn’t know the real reason why he made the track, nor how badly he wanted it to be approved for the album. Jinyoung was proud that the emotions the song elicited were enough to convince the producer to give it the green light. There was no doubt in his mind that he wrote this song for the rest of GOT7. He wanted something for them to remember him by. 

Above all, he wanted to dedicate it to Jackson. When the time would come and he’d be gone, he wanted Jackson to know that everything was okay, and that he shouldn’t blame himself for what happened. This song was a remembrance for his first and last love, because he deserved that much. He deserved happiness, the kind of happiness that Jinyoung couldn’t give.

He ended his recording session three hours later than what they had initially planned, and he felt a little light headed once he stepped out of the recording studio. He pulled out his phone and dialled a familiar number. The person picked up after two rings.

_“Park Gae~ Are you done with your recording?”_

“Yup, I just finished. You?”

_“I’m wrapping up! Do you wanna get some dinner at around 8? Our Idol Room taping is at 11.”_

Jinyoung glanced at his watch. He still had enough time for a shower before dinner.

“Alright, I’ll see you at 8?”

_“Mhmm! Come over, I’ll drive us to a pizza place that serves the BEST chicken.”_

Jinyoung chuckled, trying hard not to show how painful it was to breathe and keep the conversation going. He said goodbye, and called his manager to pick him up. 

As soon as he stepped through his apartment door, it was like someone flipped a switch in his mind that declared it a safe zone where he didn’t have to hide his sickness. He felt the same, tiring burn at the back of his throat. He coughed once, twice, but the petals wouldn’t come out. He toed his shoes off quickly, and walked on shaky legs to his bathroom. His coughs turned into uncontrollable hacks as he struggled to dislodge the blades of flora. With a particularly strong expulsion of air, a handful of petals landed in his hand. It felt different, and as soon as he glanced down, he understood why.

Because in the middle of his palm lay a clump of barely-recognizable petals, stuck together with blotched, coagulated blood.

He jolted away, letting the lump fall into the toilet bowl. He leaned on the tiled bathroom wall, shaken and gasping heavily. 

_It’s getting worse,_ he thought as he sighed and quickly gathered his bearings. He pushed away from the wall as soon as he deemed it possible to stand on his own. 

He turned the faucet on and scrubbed his hands until they were red and wrinkled from too much water. After flushing the toilet to get rid of the offending lump, he made his way to his bedroom, wondering what outfit he should change into. He was still a little light headed, but he could manage.

In the middle of sifting through his closet, he heard the doorbell ring. Jinyoung winced as he coughed up another bloody petal, hurriedly wiped it with a tissue, and threw it before making his way down the hall. He must’ve moved too quickly, because a few seconds later, he felt the room spin. He whimpered softly as he tried to find something to hold onto, but he couldn’t stop himself from falling to the floor. He gasped for air, clenching his shirt in pain as he tried to inhale, but the air seemed to get stuck in his throat.

“H-H… Help-” he tried to speak, but it came out in choked garbles, and his vision started to dim until all he saw was black.

❀❀❀

_“...yung, Ji….oung hyung… Jinyoung hyung!”_

Jinyoung’s eyes opened in shock, and he gasped for air again, feeling someone try to pull him to a sitting position to lean on a nearby wall. He coughed and wheezed, the other patting his back to help him. Finally, a wet hack let out another deep red clump of petals into his hands. He breathed in a huge gulp of air, relieved that his airways were temporarily unblocked. That was when he heard a sharp gasp beside him.

_Shit_ , he thought. _I didn’t think this through… He must’ve used the spare key under the rug._

Jinyoung looked up, and was greeted by Bambam’s concerned stare.

“Hyung, is that–” Jinyoung just nodded in reply. They were silent for a few seconds, and only his low rasps could be heard.

“Here hyung, let me.” Bambam silently gathered up the petals in his hands, and stood up to presumably throw them in the trash. The younger came back with a wet towel and crouched down to carefully wipe the blood from his fingers. “Jacks told me to come get you, said you might’ve forgotten about the dinner,” he shared before focusing on his task in silence again.

“So this is why…” the Thai boy trailed off, setting the blood-soaked cloth aside. Jinyoung looked at him with a confused stare, still trying to find enough strength to speak. Bambam sat cross-legged in front of Jinyoung’s slumped form, and spoke in a soft, gentle tone.

“You’ve been looking so _sick_ recently, hyung. You won’t eat as much, you rarely go out with us anymore, you look like you’re in pain. You’re always so pale now. We’ve all been worried, we just haven’t said anything ‘cause we thought you’d say something if it was serious.” Bambam bit his lip, visibly trying to hold back his tears. 

“I wish you told us,” the younger added in a whisper. Jinyoung frowned, placing a hand around Bambam’s wrist in a comforting gesture, and Bambam huffed a disbelieving laugh. 

“ _You’re_ the one sick, hyung, why are _you_ the one comforting _me_?” he questioned in between hiccups as his tears started to fall. The younger boy lifted his other hand to wipe away his tears, but his tears didn’t seem to stop.

“Who is it, hyung? Please tell me. _Please_.” Bambam begged, a hint of anguish in his voice. He moved to change his position to tuck his knees under him in a kneeling position. “Let me help you, hyung. Do I know him? Tell me I know him. I won’t let this stupid disease take you away.”

Jinyoung flinched. He could never say no to Bambam, especially when he sounded so panicked and anxious. “Y-You know him…” he answered between rough breaths. Bambam’s eyes lit up, looking hopeful. “Don’t tell him. Promise me,” Jinyoung pleaded, and Bambam nodded.

“It’s Jackson.”

As soon as Jinyoung uttered those words, Bambam’s eyes widened, as if he was able to successfully connect the dots.

“Is that why you left? Not because of your dad’s new– oh my god, hyung. Why haven’t you told him yet? Hyung, Jackson hyung feels the same, I just _know_ it. I beg you, _talk to him_. Don’t let this kill you. Jacks wouldn’t want that either. You know that, right? He would never let you die like this.” By this time, Bambam gradually stood back up and started to pace around the narrow hallway. Jinyoung found his strength again, and slowly tried to stand as well. Bambam noticed, and helped him sit on the living room couch.

“It isn’t that easy, Bam. That’s exactly it. He’d feel obligated to love me because he’d never let me die. Do you know how hard that would be for both of us? He would be forced to declare his love for me, and I would lead an empty life. I would exist, but I wouldn’t feel _alive_. Both of us will. I would never wish that for him. Jackson deserves a normal life.”

“And you don’t?” Bambam argued. “Don’t you also deserve to live and breathe normally? Don’t you deserve a life where you aren’t slowly being killed by flowers?”

“I’m happy knowing that Jackson’s going to be happy.”

“But what if he’s happy with _you_?”

“He isn’t. Not like that. I’m his best friend, and that’s all I ever will be. His _friend_ , ” Jinyoung declared, an air of finality around him. Bambam knew that it was useless to argue.

“Take the surgery.”

Jinyoung saw red, and shoved Bambam away from him. “What the _fuck_ , Bam! How could you– How could you even _suggest_ that? I’ve lived with this for EIGHT YEARS, why would I say yes to a surgery now and forget everything that I’ve fought through eight years of _hell_ for?! Stop pretending like you understand what I’m going through. My feelings aren’t that shallow!”

“Do you think I want to see you _die_ , hyung?! Isn’t there room in your narrow mind for those who give a shit about your _life_?! I know your life isn’t ours, but you’re our friend! You’re our _BROTHER_. Surely that means something to you?” Bambam’s voice rang across the empty room, and with a glare, the younger member walked out of Jinyoung’s apartment, slamming the door in his wake.

❀❀❀

It was getting more difficult for Jinyoung to hide his condition as the weeks passed. After their row in Jinyoung’s apartment, he and Bambam had taken to ignoring each other. They were afraid that they would lash out again and let the secret be known to all. It was an unspoken agreement between the two that this was the better option, but it was certainly hard on the rest of the group. 

With it being months before their comeback, everyone else was uncomfortable with the heightened tension and added stress. Stress that contributed to Jinyoung’s illness, which in turn reminded both men of the reason why they fought in the first place. It was a never-ending cycle of negativity, and the other members wanted it to end, even if they had no idea what started it.

To make matters worse, Jackson’s continuous presence in Jinyoung’s everyday life seemed to lose its positive effect on Jinyoung’s health. If before, he could breathe a little easier with him around, the same couldn’t be said anymore. It was like he was at the roller coaster’s peak, just waiting to tip over and nosedive to his end. 

He knew that he had darker circles under his eyes, and his face was now constantly a sickly pallor. He got chills easily, and he would sometimes see Yugyeom quietly adjust the air conditioning temperature without anyone noticing. It was getting increasingly difficult to stay awake as each day passed, but he continued to work as if that was his way of rebelling against his fate. 

“What would make you talk to Bam again?” Jackson asked him one day after practice. “He obviously can’t take any more of this feud than you can. You’re both suffering, Jinyoung. I have no idea why you fought, but we all fight. And at the end of the day, we’re still brothers, and brothers love each other!” The older man proclaimed with a grin as he placed his hands on both of Jinyoung’s shoulders.

“I… I dunno, Seun-ah. We were both pretty hurt by what we said to each other.” He sighed heavily, and looked down. “I feel bad about what I said, but I got hurt too.”

“Then say that to Bam. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Jinyoung nodded. Jackson was right; he had to reach out. It was silly to keep the fight going for so long.

And so, Jinyoung gathered up all his courage and strength to confront the Thai member. Contrary to popular belief, neither of them cried that day, but both of them realized that they were more important to each other than his illness.

Jinyoung didn’t have much time left, and he didn’t want to spend his remaining days on bad terms with the people he cherished.

❀❀❀

A month before their set comeback date, Jinyoung’s petals changed again, this time into white primroses. Jinyoung felt that it was fitting, given his state, because primroses meant _I can’t live without you_. 

Sometimes, Jinyoung would stare at the rounded petals and think about how beautiful they looked when mixed with his blood – the flecks of dark red mesmerizing against the stark white surface. In a way, he accepted his fate and was secretly grateful this was how he was going to pass; an artist killed by nature’s work of art.

He couldn’t spend much time in the studio anymore, not without feeling like he was run over by a truck. He tired easily, and would sometimes have to sit out for most of their dance practices.

The management seemed to have noticed his deterioration, so they called for a meeting one day with Jinyoung hyung and the team responsible for their comeback. Jinyoung shivered as he stepped into the conference room, biting his lip and pulling his jacket tighter around him. He was so used to the warmth of their studio that he couldn’t bear the chill in the room. 

Youngjae glanced at him in concern, and stepped closer to let their sides press together, the vocalist’s warmth seeping through his sleeve. He shot the younger a grateful smile while all of them settled in their seats. A beat of silence fell over everyone in the room, and their manager started to speak.

“We’ve been discussing a lot about your comeback for the past few days,” he starts, causing some of the members to adopt worried expressions. “We called you in for this meeting so we could hear your opinion on it. We can’t let it go on like this anymore.”

Jinyoung flinched. Were they going to let him go?

Jackson, who was thankfully seated beside him, slipped his hand to Jinyoung’s side and intertwined their fingers in a strong, reassuring grip. The corner of Jinyoung’s lips twitched up in a small smile, releasing a breath that he didn’t know he was holding. 

He wasn’t going anywhere. His members would never let him leave. 

The other Jinyoung finally spoke up after a few seconds.

“We’ve noticed the decline in Jinyoungie’s health. His recordings have all been completed, but he hasn’t learned all the choreography yet, so we can’t let him join you in this comeback.” He held up a hand to stop the protests that started to come from the members. “It doesn’t mean the discontinuation of your contract, Jinyoung. We just need to adjust so that the group can still continue with the comeback while you rest.”

Mark, surprisingly, was the first to raise his hand. “With all due respect, Jinyoung hyung, but I think I’m speaking for all of us when I say we never want to go through Korean activities incomplete again. It didn’t feel right when we promoted Never Ever without Jackson, and it won’t feel right performing Eclipse without Jinyoung.”

“It’s 7 or nothing,” Jackson spoke up, his calm and confident voice washing over Jinyoung to soothe his bubbling anxiety. Their linked hands kept Jinyoung from shaking, and he lifted his head to give the older Jinyoung a defiant stare of his own.

Their manager sighed. “So you’d rather do what, exactly?”

“Let us take care of Jinyoung hyung. We don’t care if our comeback gets pushed back, it hasn’t been announced yet, anyway,” Bambam proposed with a shrug, as if he didn’t just affect the company’s whole schedule and their potential stock prices. 

“We’ll help Jinyoung get better, and _then_ we can talk about comeback schedules again. When we’re all ready,” Jaebeom asserted, with the magnetism and charisma only the leader of a five-year-old group had.

The producer sighed, but nodded. “If you’re all gonna gang up on me like this, it only means that you’re serious,” he leaned forward. “I _do_ care about your health, Jinyoung-ah. If I’m to allow you to postpone your comeback, you have to do everything you can to get Jinyoung’s energy back, understood?” Everyone except for Jinyoung nodded.

“I’m putting your status as ‘on hiatus’ until such time that you can return as a whole group,” the members let out sighs of relief, and the producer shook his head in amusement. “Don’t make me regret my decision, alright?” 

The members all stood with a chorus of yes’s, bowed, and slowly filed out of the room since the meeting was clearly over. Jackson wrapped an arm around Jinyoung’s waist gently to help him walk properly. Jinyoung looked down to hide his blush, and visibly relaxed when they got back to the dance studio.

“You didn’t have to do all of that, you know,” he said softly, finding his voice for the first time that day. “You could’ve performed without me.” _You need to get used to performing without me_.

“Didn’t you hear what Mark hyung said? We aren’t going on stage without you, hyung. You have no say in this,” Yugyeom countered with a small grin. The rest nodded. “Let us take care of you.”

“Actually I have an idea for that,” Jaebeom smiled, and Jinyoung narrowed his eyes at his best friend. That particular smile was reserved for whenever he wanted to be a pain in the ass. “Why don’t we all live in Jinyoung’s apartment until he gets better?”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened as everyone whooped in agreement.

“Yes! I’m in. We can all pack tonight and move in tomorrow morning!” Bambam added, looking excited at the prospect of all of them living with each other again.

“Yeah, and some of us can go get some groceries too. We all fit in his apartment, right? If not, we can stay at my place,” Mark suggested.

“We fit. Remember that time we all stayed over ‘cause we were too drunk to drive?” Jaebeom supplied, smile getting wider since no one was violently objecting. “So it’s settled, then!”

“Don’t _I_ get a say in this? It’s my apartment!” Jinyoung sputtered, still trying to process the recent turn of events.

All he got in response were glares from the other members and definite no’s as he was dragged to their van, the driver instructed to head to his apartment.

For the next few days, the members fixed everything they needed – Mark, Yugyeom, and Jaebeom bought and arranged the groceries, Youngjae helped arrange Jinyoung’s apartment so all of them had a place to sleep, and Jackson and Bambam bought some medicine to help temporarily ease Jinyoung’s pain.

Jinyoung was a bit overwhelmed. He didn’t know why they were trying so hard to help him even if only Bambam knew his real illness.

“Why do all of this?” He croaked one night, as the seven of them were drinking hot chocolate in the living room.

“We want to take care of you, Nyoungie, so you can get better in no time,” Jackson commented, leaning his head and resting it on Jinyoung’s shoulder.

❀❀❀

But he wasn’t getting better. He was getting paler as the days passed, and a few weeks into their new arrangement, he didn’t have enough energy to get up from his bed anymore. His breathing thinned, and his body became frail. Occasional gusts of air from his open window would rack his body in chills that would last for hours. His appetite wasn’t as big as it was before, so naturally, he had lost a lot of weight too.

All the members eventually made a schedule among themselves after that. Jaebeom would cook all the meals, Mark would bring Jinyoung’s breakfast, Youngjae his lunch, Bambam his dinner. Yugyeom and Jackson washed the dishes, and Bambam was the self-proclaimed vacuum guy. All of them would take turns to check up on Jinyoung’s temperature, and help him sit up at least twice a day so he could have some form of exercise.

“You should tell him, you know,” Mark mentioned cryptically when he had the chance to bring Jinyoung’s food.

“Tell who, what?” Jinyoung asked, tilting his head as he chewed on his kimchi.

“Tell Jackson how you feel about him.” Jinyoung’s eyes widened and nearly choked on his food. 

_Did he find out?_ Jinyoung let out a startled choke after he swallowed.

Mark rushed to his side, patting his back to ease his coughing. “I mean, he’s been at your beck and call this whole time. I’ve seen the way you look at him, that’s all,” Mark grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. Jinyoung just rolled his eyes to hide his relief in knowing that the eldest was still in the dark.

“I have no idea what you’re on about,” Jinyoung mumbled. Mark just laughed as he brought the tray of food out of the room, slightly disappointed that it was still heavy with left-overs.

Mark wasn’t wrong, though. Whenever Jackson wasn’t doing any chores, he spent all of his time with Jinyoung – it suddenly became natural for everyone to acknowledge that he was Jinyoung’s ‘primary caregiver’. He brought water for Jinyoung to drink even if he didn’t ask, and read to him every afternoon because he didn’t have enough strength to keep the pages of the book open. He even came running every time Jinyoung had a coughing fit no matter how late it was. 

Jinyoung was grateful, because every time Jackson stayed beside him, it was like he learned how to breathe again, even for a few seconds a day. Whenever the rapper was near, he had enough strength to speak without long pauses. Jackson probably knew the effect he had on the younger, because he eventually chose to spend every night in Jinyoung’s room.

“Seun-ah… You should go to get some rest,” Jinyoung chided one night, as he watched Jackson slowly nod off at his position beside the singer’s bed. “I’ll be fine.”

Jackson jerked awake and looked at Jinyoung with a stubborn expression. “No, I have to–” Jackson stopped himself abruptly and grinned before standing up from his chair. The rapper zoomed out of the room without saying anything else, and Jinyoung let out an amused huff, getting ready to sleep. 

He already started to drift into unconsciousness when he heard his door click open again, and he opened his eyes to see the Chinese man struggling to get into the room while holding two big fluffy pillows and a soft, woolly blanket. The older member dropped them at the foot of Jinyoung’s bed and smiled.

“Wha–”

“Can you move over a bit, Jinyoungie? I wanna sleep here but the floor’s too cold and I’m sure the bed’s big enough for both of us! Do you need help?” Jackson rambled on, even as he already helped position Jinyoung on one side of the bed, pulled back the covers, and fluffed up both of their pillows.

“You–” Jinyoung laughed at the silliness of this whole situation. “You’re not leaving me with much of a choice, you know?”

“I know,” Jackson’s grin widened, and he climbed onto the bed, pulling the blankets over the both of them, and curled around Jinyoung’s side. “You can thank me tomorrow. Goodnight, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung just rolled his eyes fondly and slept with a smile on his face as he felt the other intertwine their fingers again.

**❀❀❀**

Jackson’s constant presence probably helped ease his suffering, because the next day, Jinyoung woke up with enough strength to actually get out of bed. He hid a bashful smile behind his hand as he remembered the previous night.

_“You can thank me tomorrow.”_ Jackson had said, and he thought it was a good idea to do just that.

He walked to his living room at a slow pace, and chuckled when he saw his Thai friend spread-eagled on the couch. He approached the sleeping member and reached down to shake his shoulder slightly. “Bam. Bam-ah. Wake up.” The younger opened his eyes and stared blearily at Jinyoung for a few seconds, before his eyes widened and he jumped off the couch.

“Hyung! What are you doing up? Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” Bambam frantically checked Jinyoung for any cuts and bruises. Jinyoung just chuckled and patted Bambam’s shoulder, indicating that everything was fine. 

“Don’t do that to me, hyung! I was ready to carry you to the hospital!” Bambam whined.

“I got some strength back today, Bam. Help me?” Jinyoung asked, tugging Bambam’s pajama sleeve.

“Help you with what?”

“I’m gonna make a health shake for Seunnie. As thanks for staying up with me,” Jinyoung explained, and Bambam’s face scrunched in mild disgust at the mention of Jackson’s health shake.

“All the things to do to thank him, hyung, and you choose to do _this_?” Bambam grumbled, but shuffled to the kitchen anyway. 

“We all deserve a thank you, you know? But we all know you’re too whipped for Jackson hyung.” He stuck his tongue out in jest, and Jinyoung hit his shoulder with all his strength.

“Just help me, you brat!”

They spent the whole morning cutting up fruits and vegetables, flinging pieces of chicken breast at each other, and blending everything into Jackson’s favorite mushy green drink. Bambam blanched as he poured out the health shake into two mugs, leaving one in the fridge and giving one to Jinyoung.

“Get that away from me before I vomit,” Bambam grimaced. “I’ll clean up here, hyung. Jacks is probably in the guest room with Mark and Youngjae hyung. They were talking over dinner last night about playing a new video game. You can go give that to him and profess your undying love or something.”

Jinyoung blushed and glared at the younger. Bambam laughed, making him go away with a shoo-ing motion. He grinned and shuffled out of the kitchen towards one of the guest rooms. Maybe he _could_ profess his undying love this time. 

Hope blossomed in his heart the past few days, ever since Jackson started to take care of him. He thought maybe, just maybe, he had a chance to get better – a chance that his feelings would be reciprocated. All the hand-holding, cuddling, and bed-sharing could _mean_ something, right?

Feeling refreshed, Jinyoung raised his hand to turn the door knob, but stopped short when he overheard the muffled voices inside. He pulled his hand back with a strong sense of deja vu.

“…. _ou’ve been spending every waking moment with Jinyoungie, Jacks. Stop hogging quality time with him! We deserve bonding time too, you know!”_

_“Shut up, hyung! I have all the rights, I’m the best friend~”_

_“Still, Jackson hyung, you guys spend so much time together, you should just date or something!”_

Jinyoung’s eyes widened and for some reason, he held his breath as he leaned forward to listen to Jackson’s response.

_“Date? Why would we d-date?” Jackson said with an awkward laugh._

_“Don’t you like Jinyoung hyung?”_

_“N-No! I don’t like him! I never liked him like that, Gyeom!”_

Jinyoung’s senses went into overdrive. In a split second, he felt everything and nothing all at once. A flash of light blinded him. The ringing in his ears crescendoed and kept him from hearing the glass shatter as it slipped from his shaking hands and fell to the ground, but the cadence of Jackson’s voice saying _I don’t like him, I don’t like him, I don’t like him_ remained.

He didn’t hear Bambam’s frantic voice calling out to him as he rushed to the bathroom, nor did he feel where the shards of glass punctured his shin. All he could focus on was his inability to breathe; his erratic inhales turned into desperate gulps for air, the taste of fragrant potpourri filling his mouth. His coughs racked his whole body, sounding like his lungs could give out any time soon, and excruciating pain radiated all throughout. 

With a strong heave, a big, heavy clump shot out of his mouth and into his hands. He couldn’t look away from the blooming flower in its original form, blood dripping from his palm to the floor. His heartbreak made the flowers flourish into full blooms, and he was so far into the disease that even surgery can’t cure him. 

He didn’t even know if the tears falling down his cheeks were for his withering body or his broken heart.

He should’ve known. He already came to terms with his death, and was ready to bring his feelings with him to the grave, but threw all of that away when the end was near. He had the audacity to _hope_ ; to even think for a moment that he would get his happily ever after. Now this is where that hope brought him, coughing whole primroses, about to leave this world but stuck in his own bathroom.

He coughed violently as he heard people banging on the bathroom door. Jinyoung couldn’t let them see him like this, he couldn’t bear it. He inhaled sharply and let out a painful huff as more full blooms fell to the floor, staining the pristine white tiles as blood from the petals mixed with the crimson liquid from his leg. He slumped back against the adjacent wall, his energy slowly seeping out of his body. And as he heard the distant click of his bathroom door being unlocked, his vision blurred and faded into black.

_This is it. This is the end._

**_Please don’t let this love die young_ **

**_Please don’t let this love die young_ **

**_If I’m gonna lose someone_ **

**_Don’t let it be you_ **

_“Hey, Jinyoung-ah. Wake up, dummy. You still have rehearsals for your performance.”_

_Jinyoung looked up and observed his surroundings. They were in what looked like their old classroom, and Jackson was sitting on the desk beside him. They were both wearing white polos and checkered pants, and Jackson had his bag slung over his shoulder._

_“What performance?” He felt compelled to ask, and he remembered having this conversation before. Was it a memory?_

_“The one for the cultural festival! The Shinhwa one, remember? Perfect Man? What am I, your secretary? Let’s go, I’ll bring you to the dance studio.”_

_The scenes blurred out as if they were playing out in fast forward for Jinyoung, and cleared up again when it was just the two of them in the studio._

_“You looked like you wanted to help with the choreo, Seun-ah.”_

_“Oh, me? Nah. I’m good.”_

_“I saw you grooving back there, Seunnie, you don’t have to lie to me. Bringing me to the dance studio was just an excuse, wasn’t it?”_

_Jackson smiled at him and stood beside him. They ended up making choreography for two more hours that day._

_“You know they say if you have flowers in your hair, it means you’ve already met the love of your life?”_

_“Where’d you hear that? You’re making things up again. Such a hopeless romantic.”_

_“No, really! I swear I heard a lot of people say it,” Jackson grinned, and walked towards Jinyoung, getting into his personal space. “Look, Jinyoungie, there are petals in your hair.”_

_Jinyoung looked up and brushed his fingers through Jackson’s soft brown locks._

_“You have flowers in your hair too, Seun-ah.”_

❀❀❀

Jinyoung’s eyes jerked open, and automatically squeezed shut as he was momentarily blinded by the brightness around him. 

Was there an afterlife after all?

He gradually opened his eyes and took in his surroundings – white ceiling, white walls, a bedside table with a vase full of Peruvian lilies.

_Get well soon…? I’m still–_

“Hyung? Jinyoung hyung! Oh my god, you’re awake! _Guys_ , he’s awake!”

_Youngjae? That’s Youngjae’s voice, why is he–_

“Oh thank goodness, it’s been days since we rushed you here! You’re finally awake!”

_Mark hyung? Where am I…_

“Give him some space, idiots! He just woke up!”

Jinyoung heard Jaebeom grumble as he felt someone squeeze his hand, and he slowly started to make sense of everything that was going on around him. He realized he couldn’t speak because he was intubated, the long tube hooked up to the hissing machine that was helping him breathe. Panic brewed deep in his stomach, and he squeezed the hand he was holding as hard as he could to calm himself down. His vision blurred with unshed tears and he felt someone run his fingers through his hair gently.

“It’s okay, Jinyoung-ah, you’re safe. We’re all here with you,” he heard Jackson’s deep baritone and closed his eyes in response, calming down before he was lulled back to sleep.

❀❀❀

The next time he opened his eyes, most of the lights were off, and only the warm yellow glow from the desk lamp illuminated the room. He looked around again, and noticed that there was only one other person in the room to watch over him. _Maybe the others left to eat or shower_ , his brain supplied. 

Bambam was sitting on a stool beside him, his torso hunched over the side of his hospital bed, arms tucked under his head as he slept. He placed his hand on Bambam’s nape in a soft pat, causing the younger to stir awake.

“Hyung? Are you okay?” Jinyoung nodded as much as he could with the ventilator attached to him. 

“The others know about it, now. I’m sorry, hyung, I had to tell them.” Jinyoung’s eyes widened, fearing the worst, but Bambam gave him a reassuring smile. “They still don’t know who. They have their suspicions, but I told them even I didn’t know who caused it.” Jinyoung smiled with his eyes to express how grateful he was.

“Why did you... What happened, hyung?” Bambam asked, his eyes red and glassy. Jinyoung made a small gesture, and the younger understood quickly. He handed Jinyoung his phone, and the singer started to type, pausing at times to regain some energy before typing again, recounting the events that led to his current state. Bambam turned livid when he finished reading.

“I can’t believe he said that! Ugh, this is so _frustrating_. This hyung’s such an idiot!” Bambam fumed, and grumbled more incomprehensible words to himself as he paced around the room. “Hyung, he– I–”

Jinyoung’s gaze followed Bambam as he stopped his pacing to stand beside his bed again. He watched as Bambam’s expressions changed from angry to panicked to crushed and dejected. When Bambam spoke again, it was in a soft whisper that Jinyoung normally wouldn’t be able to hear, but his voice echoed loudly in the empty room, amplifying how broken he sounded.

“I don’t want to lose you, hyung…”

Jinyoung reached out to the younger despite his blurry vision, and Bambam met him halfway, gripping his hand. “Don’t leave us. We need you. I don’t want to lose a hyung. I can’t take it. Tell him you love him, he’ll love you back, I swear. I’ll make him fall in love with you if that’s what you need,” the rapper pleaded through his tears.

_I would if I could, Bam. It’s too late. I’m sorry._

❀❀❀

When he opened his eyes again, he didn’t feel the uncomfortable tube down his throat anymore. He lifted his hand and felt the outline of a normal mask above his nose and mouth. 

_Any time now, I guess,_ he thought to himself. They didn’t have to keep him on the machine anymore, not when he was in the last stages of the disease. Soon enough, the flowers would crowd his lungs and throat, and he’d find it more difficult to bring oxygen to his lungs until it stopped working altogether. Jinyoung was grateful, in a way, since at least he would be able to talk to his precious people before he passed. 

He turned his head to the side, and his lip trembled at who he saw.

“M-Mom. Dad.” He rasped, tears falling freely. His parents jerked up and away from the visitor’s couch, rushing to his side. They must’ve arrived from Busan the previous night. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t– I love him. I love him so much it hurts... Don’t let me stop loving him, don’t make me leave again. I–” he gasped but barely any air passed through. All he wanted to do was apologize to them for everything. 

For eight years, he had been selfish, yet they still supported him from afar. They never got mad at him for his choice to leave, never once berated him for running off on his own. Yet his own selfish and reckless actions made his parents suffer, and will make them experience a painful loss. 

His mother shook her head, her puffy eyes locked with his. She put her hand gently over his arm, and tried to speak through her silent tears.

“No, dear. You don’t have to apologize. We should be sorry for keeping you apart for so long. I’m sorry, Jinyoungie,” his mom trailed off, the sadness evident on her face. His father spoke softly after. 

“He’s important to you, son, but we also see Jackson as our own child. We missed him too. We can’t blame you for feeling that way, Jinyoung. But why don’t you try again? Talk to him.”

“It’s too late, dad. He doesn’t feel the same,” he replied with great difficulty.

“There’s nothing to lose, son. At least you’ll feel lighter, no matter his reply,” his father gave him a gentle smile, and Jinyoung couldn’t stop his tears.

“I love you both. So much.”

“We love you too, honey,” his mother replied, lovingly wiping his tears away.

“Nyoung-ah, I brought some– A-Auntie? Uncle? Is that you?” 

To anyone else, Jackson’s voice would sound calm, but not to the three other people in the room. Jinyoung could tell that Jackson’s lip was already quivering. 

_He hasn’t seen my parents in eight years. He must’ve missed them. They were his parents when his own weren’t around, after all._

“Jackson Wang, you–” His mother started, and Jinyoung winced, hoping she wouldn’t get mad at his best friend for all of this mess. He smiled a bit when he heard that his mom’s voice started to shake, too. 

“Come here, you disrespectful kid, where’s our hug?” Jinyoung felt warm as he saw the three of them hug each other while mumbling _I’m sorry’s_ and _I miss you’s_ to each other. He didn’t think he’d ever see his mom fussing over Jackson’s thin frame again, but it was still an endearing sight, even after so long.

“Honey, we’ll go get some food from the cafeteria, Jackson will take care of you for now, okay?” His mom’s voice brought Jinyoung out of his stupor and he smiled softly in response. Having no help from the machine meant that he would get tired more easily. His parents probably felt that having a lot of lively guests would exhaust him even more. Jackson walked with them until the hospital room’s door and made his way back to Jinyoung’s side after saying goodbye.

“Nyoungie, I was gonna say that I bought you some Homerun Balls! Look, I even bought the flavor you like~” The older man lifted a plastic bag full of his favorite snacks and smiled. “I know the doctor said something about not feeding you unhealthy snacks, but whatever, I snuck it in for you ‘cause I know you hate hospital food–”

“Jackson.” The Chinese man startled when Jinyoung interrupted him. “What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean, Nyoung? Nothing’s wrong. Well, not nothing, I mean you’re in the hospital and that’s _all kinds_ of wrong–”

“Seun…” Jinyoung paused as he struggled to keep his breathing steady. “I learned… to worry when you ramble.”

Jackson slumped down on the bedside chair, looking deflated, his energy drained. He looked up, and Jinyoung could see the exhaustion and agony that the rapper so desperately tried to hide. His heart ached as he saw the light dim from Jackson’s eyes, wishing he could end both of their suffering.

_“There’s nothing to lose, son.”_ His father’s words rang loudly in his mind, making the gears spin out of control and urge him to speak up impulsively.

“I–”

“I–”

There was a brief moment of silence as the two best friends tried to figure out who would go first. Jinyoung smiled and kept his gaze on his best friend, wanting to hear what he had to say.

“I’ve been trying so hard to look strong in front of everyone… I guess I focused so much on making the others smile that I forgot how to make my own smile genuine. You caught me in the end, huh?” He shrugged lifelessly, and Jinyoung would give anything to be able to stand and comfort him with a hug. 

“What happened to ‘us against the world’, Jinyoung-ah? What do I do if you’re giving up like this? You’re slipping away and I can’t do _anything_. You’ve had this for years, and I was too absorbed in whatever the hell I was doing to be a proper best friend,” Jackson finally looked up, and Jinyoung couldn’t make himself look away from the broken gaze the rapper held. “Will you ever forgive me for not noticing?”

“There’s… nothing to… forgive.” Jinyoung answered, the mask doing nothing to ease his pain.

“What am I supposed to do now, Jinyoung?” Jackson bit his lip, tears silently tracking down his cheek. “I can’t imagine my life without you in it,” he said in the smallest voice Jinyoung’s ever heard from him. He could feel his own heart breaking for the man who planted the buds in his lungs.

“I love you.”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened, and he inhaled sharply in response to what Jackson just said. He was speechless, frozen in shock. Was he hearing things? It couldn’t possibly be true.

“I-I know it isn’t the best time to say things like this, but I do. I love you, Jinyoung. I’ve loved you for _years_ , but was too stupid to realize what I felt every time I saw your stupid eye wrinkles. You’re just so beautiful, so _you_. I didn’t know how deep these feelings were until I talked to Youngjae and he helped me figure things out. After that, I was just too chicken to admit it out loud to anyone, especially to you,” Jackson hiccuped, and more tears fell. It seemed that he was pouring out all of his emotions in one go, not giving Jinyoung the chance to reply just yet. 

“Then you collapsed, and we found out that you– that you had _this_.” Jackson paused to catch his breath.

“It hurt knowing that you love someone else, it really did. But it hurt more to realize that I couldn’t do anything to help you. So please tell me who it is. I don’t care if it’s someone else anymore, I just can’t bear to see someone I love die because that bastard didn’t love you back.” 

Jackson’s monologue continued, now tinged with some raw anger. Jinyoung waited, and the corner of his mouth twitched up a little. When the older was in a frenzy, it wouldn’t be a good idea to interrupt him.

“I mean, how could he _not_ love you? You’re perfect! You’re an angel! Who is he? Tell me who it is, Jinyoung. I’ll beat him up until he loves you. I just want you in my life. Please, just _live_. You don’t have to love me back. You can just forget I even said anything, okay? Just–” Jackson stopped talking abruptly, and stepped closer to hold Jinyoung’s hand. His voice mellowed down into a soft whisper.

“Let me know. I don’t want to lose you again...” 

Jackson whimpered, his tears never stopping. His anger deflated into helplessness, and he looked downright miserable. 

Jinyoung intertwined their fingers, squeezing the older’s hand. He felt revitalized, and found his energy to speak again.

“The person I love… I knew him for so long, but I had to leave Seoul to get away from him. He was my sun. He gave me so much warmth, made me feel alive. But I couldn’t get too close to him, because if I did, I would’ve burned. My parents… they wanted to protect me, so we left.”

Jackson furrowed his brows. “So he’s one of our classmates?”

Jinyoung nodded. “He made me whole. There were so many sides to me that I didn’t know existed until he showed me.”

“As much as I’d love to hear you wax poetry about this guy all day, Nyoung, it kinda pisses me off to hear you talk about some douche so lovingly,” Jackson winced. “Just give me a name.”

“I’ll get to that in a bit, Seun. Be patient,” Jinyoung berated, and let out a small huff in amusement.

“We saw each other again, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him how I felt. I was scared, because I didn’t know if he felt the same way.” He squeezed Jackson’s hand again, and smiled. “Things got worse because he rejected me. He told Yugyeommie that ‘he never liked me like that’. Can you believe it? I was about to give _that bastard_ his favorite health shake that day, too.”

He heard a gasp as realization gradually dawned on Jackson’s face. His tears stopped, puffy eyes staring at Jinyoung in disbelief.

“I– _Me_??” Jackson stammered breathlessly, then his knees gave out. “You love me?”

“It’s you… It’s always been you. Ever since you came into my life by annoying me everyday, my heart has been yours.”

A few seconds later, Jinyoung felt a huge weight smother him as Jackson hugged him, crying loudly and trying to speak in between hiccups.

“Y-You suffered so much because of _me._ I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it, Nyoung. You’ve got to _-hic-_ believe me! I wasn’t– I didn’t want people to know _-hic-_ so I–” Jackson tightened his grip around Jinyoung’s shoulders, burying his face in the crook of the singer’s neck. “This is all my fault. I hurt you so much. I’m so stupid.”

Jinyoung placed a gentle hand on Jackson’s nape, effectively soothing the rapper. They stayed like that for a while, reeling from the shock of the recent revelations. Jinyoung coughed, and a stray primrose petal landed on the base of his oxygen mask. Jackson pulled away slightly, eyes trailing from the petal to Jinyoung’s lips.

“We were both stupid…” Jinyoung whispered, and a long exhale fogged up his mask before he removed it. Jackson brushed the petal away from his chin, and leaned in to let their foreheads touch in a comforting gesture, their lips inches away from each other. Jinyoung’s eyes fluttered closed as he felt Jackson lean closer, and his breath got caught in his throat for a whole different reason.

“What if your parents come back and see us like this?” Jackson whispered against his lips, eliciting a playful huff from the younger.

“I’ve waited eight years for this moment, you jerk. I’m sure they’ll be happy for us, so just kiss me already.” 

Jinyoung grinned and gripped Jackson’s shirt impatiently, pulling him closer. The smell of fresh aftershave permeated Jinyoung’s senses as the older laughed and leaned closer again. This time, Jinyoung finally felt soft lips press against his own – the lips that he had yearned to kiss for far too long. Jackson tasted sweet; with hints of mint, and chocolate, and _love_.

They pulled apart, and Jinyoung inhaled deeply. Finally, after years of feeling the sticky petals clinging to the walls of his windpipe, he felt air enter his lungs unhindered. The petals were slowly dissolving, and the fluttering started to disappear. Jinyoung didn’t even know he was crying until Jackson wiped the tear tracks from his cheeks. He felt a surge of energy return to his body, and his smile made Jackson swoon as his eye wrinkles appeared. 

Jinyoung sat up on his own and leaned into Jackson’s warmth to kiss his first love again. This kiss was different, a clash of lips and tongue and teeth – hungry and more passionate, like Jinyoung used it to express all of his pent up feelings for the past few years. 

Jackson accepted it with his whole being, and returned it as the rapper leaned as far as he could from where he stood beside the bed, twisting his torso enough so his arms pinned the younger under him. Jinyoung’s hand automatically clawed at the older’s back, a low whine escaping from his parted lips.

“EWW!!”

Jackson jumped away from Jinyoung in panic, both looking like deers caught in headlights. Jinyoung’s whole face turned beet red, and his eyes were wide as saucers in his shock. The seven of them had an intense stare down for a few seconds before the five members stumbled into the room all at once, each of them demanding an explanation. Soon enough, the room turned into a loud, chaotic mess.

“What the _fuck_???”

“Mark hyung, pay up!”

“My EYES!”

Jinyoung relaxed and slumped back into the bed, hiding a laugh behind his hand as Yugyeom and Jackson yelled at each other about hospital etiquette and untoward actions toward patients. Everyone suddenly turned quiet when Bambam hugged Jackson out of nowhere. Even the rapper was confused, but he still returned the hug with a soft pat on the younger rapper’s head.

“Thank you for saving his life, hyung… Thank you for loving him back,” Bambam mumbled into Jackson’s shoulder, and Jinyoung heard Yugyeom gasp.

_I guess he hadn’t pieced it together yet,_ Jinyoung thought. 

It made sense, if he were to think about it. Only Mark had confronted him about his feelings before, and Jackson mentioned that Youngjae helped him realize what he really felt. Jinyoung thought that Bambam would share his secret to his best friend, but the Thai member didn’t. 

“It was Jackson hyung?” Yugyeom asked slowly. “So Jinyoungie hyung won’t… Oh my god, hyung! I’m so _happy_ you have no idea–” 

The youngest rushed to tackle him into a tight hug. Jinyoung let out a strangled yelp as the big bundle of legs clobbered him. 

“Hyung, I was so scared!” The dancer wailed, and Jinyoung smiled at everyone, silently sending his gratitude to his second family.

“Get off him, Gyeom. He still hasn’t recovered fully!” Jaebeom laughed and sent Jinyoung a warm meaningful look, knowing that his best friend already understood everything he had to say. “Shouldn’t we go call a doctor? And maybe leave the room to these two so they can do gross things without us having to watch?”

Five of them laughed and left the room as Jackson protested loudly.

❀❀❀

It took two more days for the flowers in Jinyoung’s lungs to fully disappear.

When the doctor gave him the clearance to get discharged, his parents offered to bring the seven of them back to Jinyoung’s apartment before heading back to Busan. Of course, all of them agreed and they even passed by the supermarket to buy everything they needed for a “Welcome Home, Jinyoung” party. 

It felt great to walk on his own two feet again without wheezing every ten minutes. He even told the members he’d take the stairs instead of the elevator as his own mini-celebration. Jackson accompanied him with the guise of being there in case the singer needed some support. Jackson held his hand the whole way up. 

They took a bit longer to get up to Jinyoung’s floor, telling the others that Jinyoung was still recovering and was easily out of breath, leaving out the fact that he was actually out of breath because they may or may not have made out in the stairwell. Several times.

Jinyoung opened the door, and was met with his members scattered all over his apartment. “You guys haven’t moved out?” He asked, genuinely confused. All of the members’ belongings were still in their assigned closets, and Bambam’s blanket was still haphazardly spread across the living room sofa.

“We all stayed here to keep your apartment clean for when you came back, hyung,” Youngjae explained. “We didn’t want you to come home to a cold, empty apartment!”

Jinyoung smiled. “Thanks guys, for not giving up on me.” The rest of the group gushed and ran to give Jinyoung a bone-crushing group-hug in response.

“Hey hey, let the man breathe! He’s probably exhausted. It’s late, so let’s wash up and rest then celebrate the whole day tomorrow. Sound good?” Jackson suggested, and everyone agreed, breaking the group hug to go through their nightly routine.

Jackson was about to walk to the kitchen when Jinyoung tugged on his sleeve and bit his lip while looking anywhere but Jackson’s eyes, a hint of pink on his cheeks. Jackson grinned in response and held Jinyong by the wrist and led them to the master bedroom.

As soon as the door closed, Jinyoung pushed the rapper against it and initiated another kiss. Jackson groaned low as he placed his hands on Jinyoung’s hips. The kiss deepend quickly, a continuation of the events before they were rudely interrupted by their friends. Jinyoung broke away for some air after a while, but quickly tugged at the hem of Jackson’s shirt for him to take it off, and Jackson obliged, hastily removing his top. 

“Eager, aren’t we?” Jackson commented with a dazed grin.

“Been waiting for forever. Can’t wait anymore.” Jinyoung replied as he leaned in again, their kiss sweeter and slower than the previous. Their tongues danced together in a languid movement, and Jinyoung couldn’t help but run his hands along Jackson’s taut abdomen. He gasped as he felt Jackson’s hand lightly brush against his twitching erection, leaving feather-light touches through the fabric of his pants.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you.” Jackson’s low, raspy voice sent shivers down his spine and muddled his brain. The next thing he knew, he was already on the bed with his shirt thrown somewhere he couldn’t see. Jackson pinned his arms above his head, and peppered gentle kisses from his throat down to his stomach. He moaned as he felt the heat from both of their bodies, breath hitching with every searing touch of the rapper’s lips. 

“S-Seun-ah… _please_. Wanted this. Wanted _you_.”

Jackson didn’t need to be told twice. He leaned back to take both of their bottoms off, their bulging erections straining against their underwear. Jackson hovered over Jinyoung and started to move his hips in a slow grind, moaning at the friction between their clothed shafts. They were both painfully hard, and Jinyoung felt like he was constantly teetering towards his climax. 

“Need more,” Jinyoung pleaded breathlessly. They could do all the foreplay they wanted some other time. They could explore next time, and maybe switch things up. All he wanted to do right now was to feel full. He’d dreamed of this moment for years, and now that he had it, he _craved_ for relief – for a tangible form of Jackson’s love, devosion, intimacy, passion, _everything_ ; and he needed it in its rawest form. He wanted to feel the pain until it turned into pleasure.

“Are you sure? I have to prep–”

“ _Now_. Lube and condoms in the third drawer. _Hurry_.”

He heard a clatter from his left as Jackson opened the bedside drawer. He removed their underwear in a swift movement, and Jinyoung moaned as his stiff cock sprang free in the cold room.

“Whine all you want, Jinyoung, but you’re going to _wait_ ,” Jackson accentuated his words as he poured lube between his fingers. 

“You’ll wait–” Jinyoung’s breath hitched as Jackson whispered in his low raspy voice while he massaged along Jinyoung’s hole with a slick finger.

“Until–” He moaned as Jackson finally pushed a finger through his tight ring. He writhed, wanting to feel more full and _stretched_. His back arched up from the bed as he felt another finger push in.

“I tell you that you’re ready,” He saw stars as Jackson added a third finger and pressed against that sweet _sweet_ spot. Jinyoung couldn’t take any more of this. It was taking all of his will to not come undone right then and there.

“I’m good, just– _fuck_ , Jackson. I want you in me!”

Jinyoung whined as he wrapped his legs around his lover. Jackson ripped the packet open with his teeth and slid the rubber over his shaft. He lathered himself with lube and positioned himself at the puckered entrance. Jinyoung choked out a sob, lost in the pleasure of feeling something press against his hole.

Jackson bit his lip, sweat glistening all over his body and making him look otherworldly. He slowly entered, worrying about the pain the younger may have felt. He looked up and saw nothing but bliss on the younger’s face as he moaned uncontrollably.

“Still so t-tight. I can’t control myself anymore, baby.”

“Then _move._ ”

It was as if those two words gave Jackson the permission to go wild. The rapper started to thrust in and out of Jinyoung, the burning stretch making the singer let out raspy sobs and cry out _harder, faster, more, please_ repeatedly. He picked up the pace when Jinyoung tightened his legs around Jackson’s waist, bringing both of them closer to the edge. 

“I– Close… Let me–”

“Come for me, Jinyoung-ah.”

That, paired with Jackson finding and hitting the right spot, was enough for Jinyoung to let out a strangled cry and climax without being touched. White streaks of come shot across their stomachs. His walls squeezed around Jackson’s cock, then the rapper followed soon after.

The two lay motionless for a while, crashing down from their high. Jinyoung was perfectly content with staying there, curled up against Jackson, for the rest of his life, but the older had a different idea.

“We gotta clean up, Nyoung. I’m not letting all of this crust in the morning. That’s gross,” Jackson mumbled as he tried to pry the singer off of him. Jinyoung groaned in protest, but Jackson kissed his forehead and stood up anyway, making the younger shiver at the sudden loss of warmth. He felt the bed dip, and soon enough, Jackson wiped him down with a warm wet towel. When Jackson finished, he repositioned themselves so that Jinyoung could go back to his favorite spot at the crook of the rapper’s neck. Jackson drew circles on Jinyoung’s back in a soothing gesture. 

“Did you ever have a boyfriend before me?” Jackson’s soft voice travelled through the air, the unspoken doubt and insecurity interlaced between his words.

“No. Couldn’t. Had a few hookups, but was still hung up over you,” Jinyoung answered. Jackson only tightened his hold on the younger.

“Sorry, Nyoung. I was an idiot…”

“Don’t give a shit. You’re here now. You love me. I love you,” Jinyoung replied in a sleepy slur as he snuggled closer to Jackson. “You’ve always made... me… happy.”

As Jackson watched the younger’s eyes droop, he nuzzled into Jinyoung’s hair and whispered another “I love you,” before he joined his lover in dreamland.

“There’s something different about them, Mark hyung,” Youngjae commented, nudging the eldest as the couple joined them for breakfast hand-in-hand.

“They’re _glowing_ , Jae. Who knows what they were up to last night…” Mark groaned in disgust at his own statement and placed two new plates on the table.

“We found flowers in our hair,” Jinyoung and Jackson both said in unison, looking at each other fondly.

❀❀❀

It only took Yugyeom blurting out _“I’m too drunk, I’m staying!”_ for the seven of them to sleep over at Jinyoung’s apartment again, since none of them were actually able to bring themselves to their respective homes. Jaebeom grunted, and stood up to pick the empty glasses up from every part of the living room. He carefully stepped over all the bodies sprawled along the carpeted floor, gaze lingering on the recently-formed couple who were sleepily cuddling on the couch. Trust Jinyoung to be the first to get knocked out, and from one bottle of beer no less.

The leader made his way to the kitchen quietly, and placed the glasses on the sink. He stopped in his tracks when he had the sudden urge to cough. He covered his mouth, and tried his best to muffle the sounds to not wake any of the members. 

He leaned on the counter to steady himself, and coughed until he felt something rise up his throat. Luckily, there was a tissue box on the table top, so he rushed to take one out, and used it to spit out whatever it was that was in his mouth, thinking it was phlegm.

“Hyung? Are you okay?” Jaebeom lifted his head in surprise and locked eyes with Youngjae, who was standing at the kitchen entrance and rubbing his eyes.

“I… I think so. I’m fine, do you wanna help me clean up?” Jaebeom smiled, threw the tissue in the bin, and walked back to the living room to get the empty beer cans. Unconvinced, Youngjae walked to the trash can and opened it, gasping in shock at the sight.

The tissue was crumpled, but there was no mistaking it – peeping out of the white tissue was a dark blue petal.

**_Please don’t let this love die young_ **

**_Please don’t let this love die young_ **

**_If I’m gonna love someone_ **

**_Then let it be you_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this! I think I'm the most emotionally invested in this fic among all my works. <3
> 
> Do leave a comment and tell me how you felt about this! Comments make me happy ^__^


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